The Phantomess of the Opera
by Erik's Bride
Summary: Erik, a young adult who has spent the last 18 years of his life in an orphanage, decides to join the famous Paris Orchestra. Can he make it as a violinist, or is something else destined in his future? And who is the Phantomess?
1. Humble Beginnings

Chapter 1

Eyes black as night focused on the last dying rays of the sun, which had sunk below the horizon line and was almost out of sight. These eyes were quite used to seeing this sight, and the night that came after, and so they relaxed visibly as the dark edges of night seemed to creep and overtake the daylight. He was always comfortable with the dark. There were no prying eyes, no judgements made towards him during the night. Everyone was huddled close to one another in the good company of family in the houses that scattered the countryside of Paris. Dim lights flickered on as one by one, they greeted the cold darkness in an attempt to block it out. A smile appeared on the man's lips as he thought about the homes and the families that he knew he could never have. However at the moment he felt a strange sense of companionship because only a few streets over there were another set of eyes welcoming the coming dark.

It was still early morning, but the same pair of black eyes opened, drinking in the horizon, which was now hailing the entrance of the sun. He would never tire of each sunset or sunrise because now, they were his only comforts. Stretching lazily in the dewy morning the man, but you could hardly call him that because he wasn't much more then a boy, yawned and sat up, eager for his new day. The man had spent last night taking refuge in a quiet glade amongst many Elm trees, which had prevented him from getting too soaked with the rain that had obviously fallen last night. Birds chirped their usual greetings in their sing song voices and the man hummed along as he gathered his few belongings: A black cloak, a battered wooden violin accompanied by a bow showing clearly it had been used many times over the years, a tiny piece of bread, and a flagon of wine. The man began his short walk over towards the market place, where vendors eager to start selling their wares early, were up and about shouting greetings to each other. The man sighed in happiness, he hadn't been out in daylight for as long as he could remember, nor had he ever felt the freedom he did now. He never knew his mother and father, for they died when he was very young and so the orphaned boy had been sent to an orphanage. He passed 18 years within those walls, but was never really happy for he was confined to only walking about in the dark hours and was never allowed to play or sing music, his one true passion in life. He had left, of course he hadn't asked, he had just left, and to be honest with you, he didn't much care what the orphanage or the nuns running it thought. Now he was making his way to the Paris Opera House in order to make his lifelong dream come true: to perform on the famous stage in front of prestigious Ladies and Gentlemen. His pace quickened as he passed the market place and briefly smiled as the vendors called out to him.

"Here Sir, try my shoes, sturdiest in all of Paris!"

"Sir, buy a pretty gift for your girl, you won't find prettier pearls anywhere else!"

"Come, try my pies, apple you know. Grown in my own yard, the biggest harvest yet and the sweetest!" He waved apologetically to them and reluctantly continued on, because he would have like to stayed to see the lovely things that were for sale. As he approached the foreboding steps to the Opera House he was dismayed to see that even the famous Opera Populaire had not opened. _Too early still, _the man thought bitterly as his eyes roamed over the exquisite details of the front widows and walls. He sat gingerly on the stone steps, as if afraid he would defile them with his presence and removed his violin and bow. This place had inspired so much creativity in him that it seemed only fitting that he should be sitting here about to play to the early shoppers. Setting his bow on the strings, he tuned up quickly, as a few onlookers gave him curious glances. He began to play and the melodious song, which issued forth was incredible for a boy of his age. The haunting song began to swell and fill the market place, which caused more curious looks from people who were passing. The man smiled to himself and began to sing along with his instrument, and the beautiful rich tenor voice floated easily around the courtyard, mixing harmoniously with the violin playing. People actually stopped to watch his, but the boy was not embarrassed, on the contrary, he had lived his whole to life to perform and he was in complete and utter bliss as he sang. Many minutes had passed by and the man was utterly unaware that three things had happened. One: Some of the kind gentlemen passing by had dropped some coins into his case. Two: many children were standing trance-like in from of him listening intently, hardly daring to breathe. And three: A portly man, dressed in red dress robes, and who was wearing a white wig had appeared at the door of the Opera House and a moment later scrambled back inside, and returned moments later with another gentleman who was puffing quite heavily. The song finished with a long sad note and the man glanced up quite surprised that people were standing there listening to him. Murmurs spread quietly through the small gathering of people and they began to disperse. The man still a little shocked was even more so as he glanced down to his case and spotted many coins twinkling up at him. He was about to pack up when he felt a heavy hand placed on his shoulder and he quickly spun around to see who it was.

"Cool it kid, the managers want a word with you in their office." Said the man in the red robes in a bored fashion. The man nodded and his gaze fell on his violin, was he in trouble? "Right, you better keep that with you, they might want to hear you play again kid. You're really quite talented." The young man gave a small smile but the man in the wig did not return the gesture. "Hurry now." He barked, "follow me, quickly kid, come on!" The young man quickly grabbed his things and the man in the wig pushed him forward towards the looming doors of the Paris Opera House.

**A/N: Hello everyone! Hoped you all liked my very first chapter of my posted phan phic! Pleased keep reading and review! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. There are lots more chapters coming! I love all my reviewers! -snuggles them all-**


	2. Andre & Firmin

Chapter 2

In the English language there are only so many ways you can describe something, and sometimes…just sometimes there are things which are indescribable. Take for example love, or peace, or harmony. They are nice things, things which everyone wants for themselves or even the whole world, but is there really an accurate way to describe when you're in love? Or when a war is over and peace is declared? Or when you and an enemy finally call it quits and can live with each other in comfortable companionship? I hardly think so and even writers, poets and film makers find it hard to show it on page or screen.

This however was the indescribable feeling that washed over the young man as he entered the sacred building which he had always hoped and prayed that one day he could perform there. The man how was now in front of him moved briskly, and the young man had a hard time keeping up with the things he had to carry, light and few as they were. Colours, sights and sounds blurred past him and even though he could recall the quiet outside appearance of the Opera House, the same could not be said for the inside. Noise flooded throughout the great hall and marvellous decorations were strewn around the staircases and across the hallways. People were everywhere, and the young man was often jostled without an apology, but he managed to keep close to the man in red robes, who appeared to be slowing down somewhat. They came to a very simple oak door, which had the names: M. R. Firmin and M. G. Andre inscribed on the front in neatly printed silver lettering. The guide knocked loudly on the door twice and pushed it open a crack.

"Messieurs, the boy's here." The man called inside and waited impatiently for a reply.

"Very well, send him in." A voice said quickly, and the guide obeyed, obviously happy to be rid of the man. He pushed the man in and the door was shut behind him.

The office was a rather small, windowless room that smelled strongly of cigars and women's perfume, however it was well lit, and for good reason too. Two men, dressed in matching grey suits and almost identical beards stood hunched over a desk, which was overflowing with many papers. A skinny brass coat hanger was standing in the right hand corner of the room and flung over it were two, black woollen overcoats, but the young man had no idea why, since it was almost summertime. As well, there were two grey hats perched precariously on the hat rack, which was attached to the coat rack. There were many filing cabinets everywhere, which now were open and files and sheets of paper were scattered everywhere, overflowing the drawers. There were also two comfortable looking chairs positioned just in front of the desk, while there stood only one chair behind the desk. It was clearly more extravagant the then other two in front, and the man guessed it must belong to one of the two men, who were still engrossed in their mutterings. It was covered in black leather, quite uncommon, and very expensive, with a high back and polished brass arm rests. The young man was quite unsure of what to do and felt very out of place in the presence of these two upstanding gentlemen, considering he had come from humble beginnings.

"No, no, look Andre, there would be no use putting Carlotta in that role, she'd tear off our heads." Said M. Firmin in a heavy tone.

"You might be right, but then who would play the role?"

"We might just have to pull up a chorus girl?"

"Oh we'd never hear the end of it Firmin!" cried Andre flinging up his arms.

"Perhaps, well, we had better just chose a different Opera…." Firmin replied shifting his gaze over the assorted papers, searching for something else. That's when he spotted the young man standing by the door.

"Good Heavens young man!" Firmin said in an alarmed tone, "What are you doing in here? It's strictly off limits!"

"Sorry Sir…" the young man began, "But…"

"Probably an angry chorus member seeking a better role or more pay, I told you we shouldn't have cut their pay!" Muttered Andre. The expression on Firmin's face however changed dramatically however, as a new thought just occurred to him. Andre seemed to have noticed. "What man? What's going on?"

"Of course….I remember you…" The young man allowed himself a tiny feeling of hope as Firmin said this. "Andre…" Firmin exclaimed to his partner, "…Jacque just quit didn't he?" Andre nodded solemnly.

"Yes, quite a good violinist, held First Chair for 4 seasons. Been here since the beginning."

"Exactly, well we've been searching for one to replace him haven't we?"

"Of course..." said Andre, but he stopped mid-sentence as if he had just saw the young man for the first time. "Oh no…Firmin don't be silly…." As if to solidify the fact Andre began to shake his head but Firming pressed on.

"No, no Andre. He's quite good. I listened to him outside the Opera House this morning…"

"What?" piped up Andre in surprise, "You just…just took him off the street did you?"

"Well not exactly…"

"Do you even know anything about him?" interrupted Andre angrily.

"Well…"

"Well?…Well?" exploded Andre, "Is that all you can say? He could be a thief, a murderer for all we know. Just look at the state of his clothes, we don't know where's he's been!" The young man began to shift uncomfortably where he stood. This wasn't going well at all, maybe he shouldn't have come here. He had been having doubts the whole way to the Opera house, but now as he stood here listening to the two men arguing about his future, the man realised that coming here had been a huge mistake.

"Now listen Andre…" said Firmin who was trying desperately to calm down his partner, "…if you just heard him, I know you'd agree…." However Andre either chose to ignore Firmin or he just didn't hear him because he howled in frustration.

"Not to mention the publicity we'd be getting if this leaked into the papers!" Andre sank heavily into the chair behind the desk and moaned. "God, I can see the papers now…_Opera House Hires Hooligan…Theatre Employs Street Urchin…_My God…My God_…_"Firmin who had given up any hope of consoling Andre, caught the eye of the young man who now stood poised to leave the office.

"Young man, tell us your name." Said Firmin.

"You don't even know his name!" howled Andre in dispair. The young man swallowed his anxious thoughts and ran his fingers through his untidy black hair.

"Erik Sir…My name is Erik." The man said quietly.


	3. The Paris Audition

Chapter 3

"Well Erik, do you have a last name?" questioned Andre in quite a nasty tone.

"No Sir, I never knew my parents, and therefore don't have a last name." Erik replied steadily.

"Probably killed the pair of them…" muttered Andre under his breath.

"Enough Andre!" scolded Frimin, joining in the conversation once again. "The orphanage didn't give you one?" he asked in a more gentle tone then his companion. Erik shook his head.

"No Sir."

"Now see, Andre, the boy does have manners…unlike some others I won't mention."

"Firmin, if everyone had manners, do you think there would be politicians, or criminals, or carriage drivers?"

"Carriage drivers?" asked Frimin in amazement. Andre however waved his hand in the air in dismissal.

"I shall not permit it. I want the boy out of here at once."

"Andre be reasonable, we need a violinist, he's available…" Firmin whispered closed to Andre's ear, "…won't cost much as a professional…might even work for food or shelter…?" That comment seemed to have swayed Andre a little bit and he fixed his gaze upon Erik.

"Well…"

"Oh go on Andre, let him have a go." Nudged Firmin.

"Very well…play. We'll see if you're up to the level that only the Paris Opera House expects."

"Go on." Said Firmin encouragingly, "go on, don't be shy." Erik couldn't believe his ears. After all this arguing, he was going to get a chance to audition to be in the orchestra of the Pairs Opera House! That was all he ever wanted, well he really wanted to play in the orchestra, singing in an Opera however was way beyond his reach, but one step at a time. All he could ask for now was a chance to show them how good he really was, and that was what he was being offered. For the first time since entering the Opera House, Erik's face showed a hint of a smile and excitement as he placed his violin up to his chin and took a deep breath. _It's now or never_, Erik kept reminding himself over and over, _show then what you've got…blow them away._

Erik closed his eyes and began to play, a different melody from what he had played outside. Ever since Erik could remember he had been planning what piece to play for his very first audition. As Erik's fingers danced gracefully over the strings with his bow, memories of a younger version of himself came flooding back. His first violin, the secret lessons he had in the alley behind the orphanage, his first composed piece. Now he was really here living out his dream. He had waited so long for this moment, he had planned out exactly how it was supposed to go, and now that the moment was here, it hardly seemed real. As with most things it life, nothing ever goes perfectly, and even with the rocky start Erik felt that he had, he supposed that the only thing left to do was play his heart and soul out.

He did just that.

The moments passed as if a dream to Erik, and too soon, _far too soon, _thought Erik, it was all over. His moment of glory was gone in an instant. The last notes faded away in the office and Erik opened his eyes slowly, trying to savour the very last seconds of music. The room was in stunned silence which Erik thought was quite a change, considering in the very short space of time that he had come to know Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre, he guessed that they loved to talk. Erik risked a glance towards the faces of the two managers. Andre still sat in the chair but he had his elbows on the table now and his face was cupped in his hands, while his eyes showed that he was in a dreamy state. Firmin leaned against the filing drawers with his eyes closed and his head tilted back just below a rather large pile of papers and Erik had a terrible suspision that it might come crashing down on his head if he jerked away to quickly. Erik dared not move and so he waited with bated breath until there was at least some sign of movement from the two men before him. It was Andre who at last came out of his stupor and his refocused eyes settled onto Erik, who held his own face level with Andre's. Andre opened his mouth, but the words seemed to have been lodged somewhere deep within his throat. As if Firmin had heard the non-existent sentence, his eyes fluttered open and he looked at Andre with a grin on his face. It was Firmin however, who seemed to be the first to master the art of speech.

"Andre…." He said slowly in an almost mocking I-told-you-so fashion.

"My dear Firmin." Andre said as he broke gaze with Erik and turned his face towards Firmin. "I do believe I ought to take you out for diner." Erik's eyes widened. This didn't make sense, he had just performed an audition and Monsieur Andre was talking about food. Was he really that horrible? He hadn't been really listening to himself closely anyway, his thoughts had been tied up about his childhood. Could it have been possible that while his mind was on other things, he had messed up, or forgotten a note or two? A terrible dread was starting to quickly descend on Erik as the managers continued to look at each other in silence, hardly paying him the slightest bit of attention. Even if he had messed up, didn't they see the passion in his eyes? _Don't be stupid, _thought Erik, _your eyes were closed. _Still, they should have seen the drive in him or the longing to play, or had he been too scared? Had he, Erik, come off as just a scared little kid who had no idea what he was doing? His mouth was dry and his lips were cracked as these thoughts flew around inside his head madly. He lowered his gaze to the richly carpeted floor of the managers office trying to remember what kind of life he could have had if he hadn't been so stupid as to forget to concentrate on the one thing he had ever been proud of in his life. Erik wanted to make his dismissal as painless as possible and so he stood a small tentative step forward.

"Messieurs, I'm terribly sorry to have bothered you. I shall leave you in peace. Thank you for your time." Erik hung his head and turned towards the door again for the final time. _You blew it, _Erik thought in misery, _now there are no more chances. You can't go back. _A small cough was heard behind Erik, but he paid it no heed.

"That won't be necessary Erik." Said Firmin sternly. Erik sighed inaudibly, but did not look back at the managers, he just stood there frozen solid, with grief and disappointment written all over his face.

"Why not?" Erik whispered so quietly that he was sure the managers hadn't heard him. However from the answer that Andre gave, Erik was sure that both the managers had heard him.

"Welcome to the Pairs Opera House Orchestra Erik!" smiled Andre for the first time.


	4. 4's Company, 5's a Crowd

Chapter 4

Erik was experiencing another moment that was indescribable, it was the most intense feeling of joy that he could ever remember having. His whole life had been a big swirling mass of disappointments and tragedies, but now finally, the resounding feeling of excitement and hope echoed into Erik's life, and now that he knew what it felt like, he never wanted it to leave. Erik hardly noticed that the managers were grasping his hands in congratulations, or that the same guide, who was much more agreeable this time, was leading him away to the orchestra pit to get him aquatinted with everything. It all passed it one big flash of moments beyond his wildest dreams and before he knew it, night fell and Erik was being led down the darkening corridors towards the dormitories of the orchestra. _Is it always this way?_ Thought Erik in amazement, _do happy moments pass faster then sad moments? _The day had passed so quickly that now entering his new home Erik felt a quick flash of disappointment that it was all over. He had never really had much attention paid to him when he was younger, and that day he wasn't centre of attention, but he still was paid more then he was used to. The same guide as before, but as there was no opera going on, he had changed his clothes, pushed open a small door and led him down some stone steps. Torches flickered happily where they stood on the walls, and even though Erik did not like underground areas the steady hum of voice from various doors seemed to reassure him. It was true Erik was used to company, but there were times when he preferred to be alone. Stopping so suddenly that Erik almost crashed into his guide, a door was swung open in front of him and quite quickly he was pushed in.

"Breakfast will be served at 7:00am in the kitchen for the orchestra, be there or you won't be fed." Said the guide calmly and then turned on his heel and left Erik standing quite alone in a small dormitory with 4 other men looking at him. He managed a nervous smile but did not say anything. The men were quite rugged looking, two of the wore hats pulled down quite low over their faces and all of them were smoking cigars and playing cards.

"Right then, who are you?" questioned one of the men who wore a hat. Erik took a deep breath and laid down his things.

"My name is Erik, I just joined the orchestra." The man who asked the question gave him a hearty laugh that sounded like nails on a blackboard, which was soon followed by a fit of coughing.

"Ernie, you gotta stop smoking those you know." Said another man, this one did not have a hat, "it's going to kill you sooner or later."

"I'd rather sooner." Grinned Ernie, "then I wouldn't have to listen to that toad Carlotta." This comment was followed by four deep rumbling laughs that echoed dully around the small room.

"Here, here!" cried yet another man who gave Erik a small wink out of the corner of his eye. "Come on now lads, where are your manners? Introduce yourselves, I'm Steve." Said the man who had given him a wink.

"Hey, hey, you know what would happen if everyone had manners Steve?" shouted Ernie. Steve rolled his eyes in Erik's direction and politely smiled.

"Do tell Ernie." Ernie stood up, swaying slightly from the drink and placed a lock of his hair across his face, to imitate Andre's enormous moustache.

"My dear Steve, if everyone had manners, do you think there would be politicians, or criminals, or carriage drivers?" asked Ernie in quite a serious tone, who was trying to imitate Andre. It really was quite a striking impression. A second round of four deep laughs sounded from all the men around the table and this time Erik joined in quietly.

"Ah so the boy does know Andre!" grinned another man, who Erik did not know the name of.

" 'Course he does Pete, had to go through him to get here didn't he?" Steve smiled, "still remember my first time. Bet he's just as scary now as he was back then." Erik nodded, even though no eyes were upon him.

"Right then my boy." Announced Pete, "Why don't you come have a seat here." He pulled up an old wooden chair, which was quite low down to the ground. Erik hesitated only once, but then walked over and took his place in between Pete and Steve.

"So…Erik…"said Ernie quite slowly, "…you seem to be quite young…19...20 perhaps?" Quite clearly they had all forgotten about the card game spread out before them.

"18, actually." Said Erik. A collective sigh was heard around the table and Pete looked at him with new interest.

"My you must be quite good then, except you took the place of a lazy back bencher. Don't worry, if you work hard enough, you might not be thrown out too soon." He laughed at his own joke as he nudged the forth man who had no name still.

"Well, I did hear that Jacque was in First Chair for 4 seasons." All the men looked at him with suspicion and had their mouths hanging open.

"You mean _the_ Jacque Laffrey?" Spluttered Ernie through his drink.

"I believe so." Replied Erik, to which the men gave him odd stares.

"I don't believe you, you can't be that good. You're still just a kid with no experience. There are much better violinists here then you, people who have been here since before you were born. You would never take his place, Maestro would take someone else from the front." Muttered the forth man angrily, glaring daggers at Erik, who now felt quite small.

"Hush Richard. Don't be silly, they'd never pick him He's lying." Said Pete quickly, who's last statement reminded Erik strongly of Andre.

"Yeah? Know what I do to liars kid?" said Richard menacingly. Erik shook his head, quite afraid to speak and now wished his was back in the room with Andre's loud arguments against him. Had Andre been right in the first place? This was no place for him. What was he thinking?

"Richard, Pete. Stop that. Innocent until proven guilty right? I don't know why someone would lie about something like that, but until we find out who will be taking First Chair, then I suggest you give the kid a break. Andre or Firmin must have said something, and you all know how reliable they can be." Interjected Steve, much to the relief of Erik. A soft murmur was heard around the table in agreement. Just then after a few moments of awkward silence a sharp bang was heard on the door.

"Bed time gentlemen!" shrilled a high voice, and then loud footsteps faded away towards the next door. The men grumbled and stowed their drinks and cigars away in the cupboard and then headed off, each to their own bed in the room. Steve motioned to Erik, who grabbed his things and claimed the bed next to Steve's. When they were all lying down Steve grunted 'goodnight' to which there were four other grunts. Just before Erik closed his eyes he cast a quick glance around his new room, and just like his audition it had a rocky start, but he hoped it would turn out just as well.


	5. Notes in the Night

Chapter 5

Erik woke up and lay still in his bed before he even thought of moving. He had been dreaming of his day yesterday again, which Erik classified as one of the best ever. Even Richard hadn't been so bad, he had been used to far worse, so he knew he could handle himself. He chuckled silently, _even nuns can't be Saints, _he thought quietly. Rolling over, away from the wall, his eyes caught the face of Steve in the bed next to him, still sound asleep. According to the occasional movement and mutter, Erik could be sure that the rest of his roommates were asleep as well. He carefully removed the covers, making sure not to make any noise, for fear of waking the others and slipped on the clothes he had from yesterday. Erik didn't own any other clothes and so had to either sleep in his own, which was the norm, unless he was in a bed and borrowed some night clothes which was what happened this time. He stuffed his night shirt underneath his pillow and hastily made his bed and crept quietly out the door.

Once outside, Erik was quite unsure where to go. The hallways were still silent and the occasional snore was heard from adjoining rooms. The lamps were turned down low and many were out, due to the sudden gust of wind that happened to blow through the corridor. Erik was never chilly, he was used to the fact that he had little to keep himself warm and had learned to adapt. Trying to remember where to go, Erik blindly made his way in the half darkness to a stairwell, which led upstairs. Step by step, he climbed the stone stairwell and approached a door that was like the one he saw yesterday. This however did not silence Erik's fears about where to go, since all the doors in the Opera House looked the same and Erik wondered briefly how anyone could possibly know where everything was. All of a sudden, out in the darkness he caught sight of a small shadow further down the corridor. Erik was sure it had seen him because it darted off quickly back into the darkness. Confused, Erik hurried along quietly trying to keep up with the shadow, but eventually lost track of it, and now he was completely lost. A silent knock was heard behind him and he spun around and instinctively dived for cover. A small patch of light fell on the floor where Erik had been second before and the small creak of the door sounded.

"Mme.?" Said a tired sounding Andre. Erik shifted his position so that he could see Andre's face and the back of the woman.

"Monsieur, you know I would never bother you at such an early hour unless it was important." She whispered quickly, Erik just catching what she was saying.

"Don't tell me…"said Andre as he raised a hand to his brow. "God, not again."

"I'm afraid so Sir." Muttered the woman, "Please Sir, can we go to your office." Andre sighed heavily.

"I can't dissuade you can I Mme?" She shook her head in reply.

"No Monsieur, this cannot wait."

"Very well then." Muttered Andre as he disappeared for a moment and then reappeared with a dress coat on to cover his night shirt. "I suppose we must rouse Firmin then?"

"Oui Monsieur." The woman said as they headed down the hall together and Erik suddenly realising he did not want to be left behind quickly followed after. They only went a few doors before they stopped outside another identical looking door and Andre knocked quietly on it only once. No noise was heard from behind the door and the Mme. stood impatiently as Andre extracted a key from his pocket. He fitted the key into the lock and turned but nothing happened. No click. Nothing. Andre tried to open the door again and it ended up in failure again. "Oh this is ridiculous." Muttered the Mme. behind Andre.

"Mme. Giry, please." Said Andre quietly. "Firmin?" whispered Andre through the keyhole.

"Step aside Monseuir." Said Mme. Giry's briskly as she took a key out quickly and shoved it into the keyhole and it immediately sprung open.

"Ah...well…" replied Andre, clearly embarrassed, but Mme. Giry paid him no attention and stepped into the room. "Um…Mme.?" said Andre as he followed her in. After some moments of shuffling, silent curses and hurried whispers, Andre and Mme. Giry reappeared leading Firmin, who was very dishevelled looking, apparently just dragged out of bed.

"Oh…honestly…at this hour? Doesn't she ever sleep?" yawned Firmin looking quite annoyed at his early awakening. Mme. Giry gave Firmin a silencing stare and he took the hint and fell silent as the three of them continued to the end of the hallway. Erik assumed that Firmin was talking about Mme. Giry and he gave a light chuckle. No sooner had he did that then Mme. Giry spun around with piercing black hawk eyes. _Fool, _thought Erik, silently scolding himself for being so stupid. Luckily, for the second time that morning Erik was hidden out of sight, but just barely.

"Mme.?" asked Andre, "What's going on." Mme. Giry frowned, looking straight at Erik and he was sure that she had seen him. He started to sweat. He hadn't even been here a full day and he had almost been caught sneaking around and eves dropping on a conversation, which clearly he wasn't supposed to be listening to and could very easily be thrown out. However, to Erik's enormous relief, Mme. Giry turned around again and strode directly into Andre and Firmin's office. Both managers glanced behind them, then locked eyes and shrugged to one another. They both filed in the office, then the door was promptly shut and the light was diminished in the hallway. Erik, sure the coast was clear, crept out and headed over towards the door, which he pressed his ear up against, desperate to hear the rest of the conversation.

"Gentlemen, sit."

"Look Mme. Giry, couldn't this have waited 'till morning? I'm dead tired and need my beauty sleep." Moaned Firmin.

"Monsieur Firmin, I advise that beauty sleep for you is a lost cause." Erik stiffled a giggle, and Firmin quickly fell quiet again. "I received this…" However Erik had no idea what 'this' was, since he could not see. He lowered his body to the floor and looked through the crack at the bottom of the door, but only managed to see 3 pairs of feet. "…half an hour ago."

"You know Mme. Giry, we don't have to know exactly each time you receive her letters. You could have waited until morning." Replied Andre in a bored tone. "Probably just demanding her salary, or telling us to leave her box open, or telling us how to run the theatre."

"The usual." Added Firmin.

"Messieurs, like I said, I wouldn't have woken you unless it was truly important. The letters...they've been more threatening, more demanding."

"Nothing we can't handle Mme." retorted Andre. Erik could imagine Andre waving his hand in dismissal just as he had done at his audition and Erik smiled to himself.

"If you don't believe me, I shall read it for you." Replied Mme. Giry in a hurt voice. However before she could continue a loud noise rang throughout the Paris Opera House. Erik would recognise it anywhere, it was the 7:00am town clock, which stuck every hour. The noise reverberated through the halls, completely masking whatever Mme. Giry was saying to the managers. Erik knew that he had to get out of here before anyone found him, struggling to get to his feet the door to the manager's office was thrown open and it crashed right into Erik's head. He fell backwards sharply and landed on the floor, his head pounding angrily, and the clock chimes making it worse. His vision blurred only for a moment and when it cleared he could see Mme. Giry's dark figure looming over him.


	6. Mme Giry's Wrath and Breakfast?

**A/N: Hey guys, thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed my story. I hope you all like the last chapter, it was one of my favourites to write, as is my next chapter. So stayed tuned!**

Chapter 6

It has been said that many people do crazy things and sometimes, surprising things when they are face with a dangerous or even life threatening situation. The rich give away all their money, murderers confess, but everyone reacts in a different way to the same situation. It's what makes life interesting, never really knowing how someone will react when put in a certain situation, with certain variables. People have even dedicated their lives to studying why people do what they do when put in a stressful situation.

Erik was definitely going through a stressful situation as Mme. Giry peered down at him from just in front of the managers' office. Cloaked all in black, her stance was commanding and he could tell that she was used to running things her way.

"Erik I presume." Mme. Giry said with her lips pursed angrily. Erik gulped, how did she know? _She knows everything you fool, _a tiny voice said in the back of his head, _She'll know that you've been out of bed and listening to them._ Her eyes seemed to narrow as if she had heard what Erik had been thinking, but he tried to keep his face completely blank of any kind of emotion. She threw a quick glance behind her towards the managers who were already snoring away in their chairs. She lowered her voice as she heard movements from inside the ballet girls' dormitories just behind them. "How much did you hear Erik?" Erik struggled to not act surprised.

"I don't know what you're talking about Mme." He was careful not to use her name, then she would know that he had overheard. She merely nodded, looking thoroughly unconvinced, as a few ballet girls started to emerge from their room, yawning and stretching. They smiled at Mme. Giry and Erik as they walked along and Erik tried to keep avoiding their glances.

"Morning Mme. Giry." They curtsied quickly.

"Morning girls, hurry to breakfast now. Warm up will begin in half an hour, be sure you're ready." They ran off quickly giggling to each other, their faces bright with the hope of youth, hope, which had long since vanished from Erik until yesterday. Today however was turning into not such a good day, although secretly Erik knew he deserved it. He had always been caught doing everything wrong. Stealing cookies from the kitchen jar, sneaking out to the garden to sing, minor things, which the nuns didn't allow in the orphanage unless it was for the good of the church. _You should have known better, you've never got away with anything in your life. Why expect it now? _Scolded the little voice. His head began to pound again painfully and he reached up his hand to try and stop it from ringing. "Erik." Said Mme. Giry quite close to him, "if you'll tell me what I need to know, I'll take the pain away from you." Erik frowned. He couldn't tell Mme. Giry anything, unless he wished to be chucked out of the Opera House with nothing. The again, the pain in his head was increasing exponentially. It was as if Mme. Giry was making it harder, increasing the pain on him just so he would tell the truth. _That's impossible, no one could do that, _thought Erik, knowing he was being very stupid at the moment. But then, the pain wasn't helping him be any smarter now was it? No, Erik finally decided, his dream wasn't worth giving up just because of a little pain. At this point in time more and more ballerinas were flocking through the hallways and Mme. Giry was getting more and more agitated and she greeted them all. Besides the ballerinas, some of the orchestra was making their way along the crowded corridors towards breakfast, grumbling slightly due to the fact that they had just woken up. Mme. Giry still stared down at him pensively, as if calculating something about him. As the crowd thickened Erik felt a hand pass by his back and he turned around. Steve stood there in his orchestra suit, white tie and top hat, looking rather funny compared to all the rest of the people who were dressed rather plainly. He cleared his throat loudly and Mme. Giry's eye shot up.

"Mme. please excuse me, it is breakfast time, Erik here must be hungry." Mme. Giry surveyed him carefully and then shook her head to herself.

"Yes. Mme. that's where I was going when you…when the door opened and hit me." Mme. Giry shot Erik a steely glare that quickly shut him up. _I know how Andre and Firmin must feel, _Erik thought as he managed a shallow gulp.

"Very well, get to breakfast. Maestro expects you at 8:00am for warm up in the orchestra pit. I trust Steve can show you where it is." Mme. Giry snapped a bit too loudly and turned quickly to disappear into the managers' office where she slammed the door. Erik chuckled as he could hear the faint shouts of the managers who were quite upset that Mme. Giry had woken them up twice abruptly in the past hour. Steve picked up and Erik and they walked together into the main hall where many tables had been set up and were groaning in protest as much food had been laid on them. As soon as they were sure that Mme. Giry was safely out of earshot they turned to face one another.

"Hey Steve, thanks back there." He waved his hand, much like Andre did and chuckled softly.

"We've all been there. Mme. Giry's a stern woman. Try to stay on her good side. I'm just happy she doesn't conduct the orchestra." Steve shivered visibly as he reached out for a plate and handed it to Erik. "I hate to think about the ballerinas who put just one toe out of line." Erik nodded and thanked Steve for the plate. Erik had never seen so much food in his life. At the orphanage they didn't starve him, but he couldn't really call the food they served good tasting or in good quantity. He helped himself to a bit of everything, most things, which had now littered his plate Erik wasn't used to. At the orphanage the nuns thought the best way to serve the Lord was through a steady diet of oatmeal. Morning, afternoon and night, occasionally with a glass of wine. Steve led him over towards a side door and pushed it open with body, as his hands were full. This room was big as well, but very crowded with people hunched over their dishes trying to eat everything in a short space of time. As they sat down in the middle of a group of people, Erik could spot Ernie, Pete and Richard who were sitting with two ballerinas each, as they caught sight of the two, they waved and then turned back to the girls that they were entertaining. Steve laughed at the sight and Erik joined in. Without much time to spare, Erik and Steve wolfed down their meals and watched in amusement as the ballet girls were called away, leaving the men in the orchestra alone. The rest of the group stood and came over to where Steve and Erik sat.

"We better get going as well, you know how Maestro gets when someone is late." Said Pete with a glint of joy in his eyes. They all nodded and moved off towards the great hall again, this time headed for the orchestra pit, which was just beyond the auditorium doors. They entered and half of the orchestra was already there tuning up, brass trumpets hooted, the violinists plucked their strings, the pair of the oboes squeaked as they tried to match pitches and the piano hummed softly playing chords. The four violinists seated themselves: Erik in the back and Pete, Steve and Ernie in the middle and Richard in the Second Chair. First Chair was empty and it was getting stares and whispers from the whole violin section. Quickly the orchestra filled up their seats, Erik guessed that what Pete had said about Maestro was true. Maestro entered himself soon after and took his place at the podium and placed down the conductor's score as well as his baton. He was very thin, with grey hair that was quite thin. Erik guessed that his age might be somewhere in the 60's and the black tuxedo, which hung off his tiny frame loosely, gave him a sick appearance. He passed out dozen of scores, the violinist scores he handed to Richard who accepted them quickly and exchanged a few words with him. As soon as the orchestra all had their scores, Maestro cleared his throat and tapped his baton, and then flipped open his own score.

"Now then Gentlemen, first page. We'll begin with a few light pieces and then dive right into the Opera. Any questions?" He glanced around not really expecting anyone to raise their hands, and when no one did he nodded curtly. "Very well, on my count then."


	7. Richard's Past and Maestro's Decision

Chapter 7

The whole day had been tough and Erik's fingers bled steadily as he sat at the side of the stage with Pete crouching down beside him, trying and failing to make the swelling in his fingers go down. Erik had never played violin like that before, mind you, he had never been in an orchestra before, so it was all very new to him. Pete swore under his breath and Erik shut his eyes in pain as his fingers were prodded and pulled different ways. At last, even though it had seemed like hours, Erik's hands were bandaged with white linen cloth and had been dipped in warm water to keep infection away until they could get the proper ointment to him.

"There." Pete smiled at his handiwork and met Erik's eyes. "That's the best I could do for you." Erik forced himself to return a smile even though his fingers throbbed painfully.

"Thanks Pete."

"No worries Erik, glad to help out a friend. How are they feeling?" Erik wiggled his fingers in front of Pete's face, quite energetically despite the pain.

"One more day like that and you might have to cut them off." Pete let out a loud laugh and clapped Erik strongly on the back, knocking the wind out of him quickly.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to put up with it for everyday that you're here. Maestro pushes us hard. He's very strict about practices, and he doesn't take kindly to those who don't show up."

"Not even if they have a good excuse?" Asked Erik is surprise.

"Like what?"

"Well…if they were sick, or someone in their family died and they had a funeral to go to." Pete scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"The only funeral that Maestro would allow an absence from practice would be their own." Erik's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Are all orchestra Conductors this strict?" Pete shrugged.

"Not so sure about that. I've never been in an orchestra other then this one. You might want to talk to Richard though, he's been in the New York Orchestra and the London Orchestra. He'd be able to help you, got loads of experience. I do think he likes this one the best, because he's been here the longest." Erik glanced over to where Richard now stood along with Steve and 3 other violinists that he didn't know. They were standing about Maestro, and were all leaning in eagerly absorbing what he was saying to them. Everyone else in the orchestra had left the pit and made their way to the front hall in order to start their dinner, everyone that is except the 5 people standing about Maestro and Pete and Erik who were huddled in the corner.

"Hey Pete, Richard is a good violinist right?"

"One of the best we have." Pete beamed, obviously happy that he and Richard were friends. "Even though he's been with those orchestras, he's been here since almost the same time as Jacque Laffrey."

"Must be very old." Muttered Erik with a hint of jealousy in his tone. Richard had been to all these wonderful places and played in all these orchestras during his whole life and Erik had been hidden from the world of music and operas until this moment. _At least you have a chance here, many have not been where you are now. Be grateful what you have, it may disappear before you know, leaving you with nothing. _ The tiny voice in Erik's head piped up. Erik had to agree to an extent, but he wanted an excuse to dislike Richard because clearly Richard did not like him.

"Ah. Now, now experienced, is how we like to say it. Richard is experienced." Said Pete with a twinkle in his eye. Erik turned to Pete and gave him a thoughtful stare.

"If Richard is so experienced. Why did he leave those other orchestras?"

"Damned if I know. That's something you should ask him." Erik returned his gaze back towards the huddle that was surrounding Maestro. He could feel Pete's eyes on him and knew that he was leaning closer towards him. Erik was feeling a little uncomfortable and wished Steve and Richard would hurry up and finish what they were doing with Maestro. It wasn't Pete's fault that he felt uncomfortable, it was just that eyes had been on him the whole time during his life in the orphanage. Erik knew something was wrong and that he had done something against the rules if the nuns looked at him the way Pete was looking at him now. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Aren't you two good friends? Wouldn't he tell you?" He managed to steal a glance at Pete's face and quickly regretted what he said to him. Hurt came into Pete's eyes, but quickly masked it when he saw Erik looking at him. He drew his face away from Erik's and looked out across the orchestra pit, staring to nothing in particular. Erik wasn't sure what to do. He had never hurt someone's feelings before and wasn't sure what he had done wrong, only that he had did it. He placed a hand tentatively on Pete's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Look…I'm sorry what I said…I didn't mean it the way it sounded…" Erik began, stumbling over his words in an attempt to try and comfort Pete but it didn't seem to be doing any good. In an instant, Pete whipped his head around and brought his face just inches away from Erik and he had a coy smile upon his lips.

"Of course my boy, Richard tells me most everything. However, it is my decision to tell you what I want about him when I want. You can't always expect an answer to all your questions." Erik was a little frightened in the quick change of his friend but remained calm.

"Er…right." Said Erik a little uncertainly. Pete removed his face for the second time and clasped his hands together and placed them quietly in his lap looking thoughtful.

"However, I could tell you what I think. It wouldn't be telling you what he actually said, but it might give you some time to figure out your own answer, unless Richard gives you his true one." Pete snorted as if what he said was a joke. Erik grimaced and felt truly sorry for Pete because Richard seemed to be the kind of person who only looked out for number 1.

"That would be nice Pete, thanks." Erik said smiling at Pete who turned his head to face him.

"Well, well!" exclaimed Pete. "Now Erik, this mustn't be passed on, understand? My advice and thoughts should always be taken seriously, and should not be taken lightly." Erik nodded to show Pete that he did indeed understand. He held back the urge to say, then who are you to pass this on? As soon as he thought that, he realised how stupid he was being and gave his full attention to Pete. "Now what I think is well, Richard is a very accomplished violinist and made his way up the ranks in both those orchestras, up towards Second Chair." Erik's mouth hung open wide as he drank in every word that Pete said. New found respect started to form in Erik for Richard, who was clearly very talented to reach Second Chair in two orchestras. Pete grinned as he saw Erik's stunned look and patted him on the cheek so that Erik closed his mouth and blushed a bit.

"Sorry." He murmured.

"No need to be." Pete's eyes shone. "I hope to one day become half the violinist that Richard is. He truly is remarkable." Erik was astounded at the length that Pete considered himself a friend to Richard even if it wasn't really true. Erik had no way of knowing if Richard was indeed who he seemed but Pete's endless admiration for Richard stirred something deep inside Erik.

"Maybe you and him were right, that I'm not meant to replace Jacque." Pete nodded.

"Sorry my boy, you quite clearly have a gift for the violin but that group there is in the running for First Chair. As you can see you're not in it. I wasn't really surprised really, you being a new arrival and all." Erik stared at the group again. He knew why he wasn't there, he wasn't good enough that much was clear. After he had just heard all the amazing things that Richard had done, Erik paled in comparison. He secretly hoped that Steve would get it, but something told him that Richard was going to get it no matter what.

"So about Richard…" Erik began.

"Oh of course my boy. He'll get it for sure."

"No I mean, why did he leave those orchestras. You didn't really finish."

"Well..." Pete hooked his thumbs around his belt loops, "I guess he figured that he would be able to get First Chair here at the Paris Orchestra. There's a lot of prestige attached to the title you know."

"Wouldn't Richard already be quite well known?" Pete shook his head sadly.

"First Chair has always really overshadowed Second Chair. For a musician like Richard who always strives for the best, Second Chair would be just that: second best."

"I see." Pete's eyes looked away from Erik's face as footsteps could be heard close to them and coming closer. Erik saw Pete leap up and smile wildly at Steve and Richard who had both just left the group around Maestro. Erik stood as well and faced the two gentlemen. Richard stood stone still with an unreadable expression on his face while Steve's face held the complete opposite. Steve seemed quite honoured that he had even been chosen to be considered for First Chair.

"Well friends?" said Pete as he grasped both their hands in his. "What's Maestro's decision?" Steve grinned broadly and Erik's hope flared up. Steve had got it! Erik was in mid jump when Steve rested his hand on Richard's arm.

"Our dearest friend Richard has claimed the title of First Chair."


	8. The Confusing Wish

**A/N: I get shivers every time I read this chapter and I hope you do to….ah….I love making my characters squirm…tee hee! Please Review!**

Chapter 8

Erik's eyes widened in sorrow for his friend Steve and yet a part of him knew that Richard would get it and so was not very surprised. Pete gripped Richard's hand warmly and gave him a huge grin from ear to ear.

"Congratulations Richard! I knew you'd get it, you were bound to anyhow." gushed Pete in all honesty. Richard nodded stiffly and gave a careless glance at Richard. Steve stepped aside as Richard approached Erik in a slow manner. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, when Erik said something, which he knew he shouldn't have.

"Congratulations Richard. You are really one of a kind, not many people could win something and cheat the best man running out of the title." Whispered Erik as he nodded towards Steve, indicating that he was the best man for the job. Richard narrowed his eyes dangerously at Erik as he said this, clearly he was not used to hearing someone talk back to him.

"I will rise above this pettiness Erik." Richard said smoothly and shook his hand, but Erik drew it away quickly. "You are jealous, I know it, so I forgive everything you say to me. You expected to come here and take First Chair." Richard looked back towards Steve and Pete and smiled graciously. He turned back to Erik and lost his smile and the mirth in his eyes immediately. "Of course I knew it could never happen. You're only a child, how you managed to even get in this Opera Orchestra I will never know, but I do know this…" He leaned forward close to Erik and Erik could feel his warm breath play across his face. "You shall never have First Chair as long as I'm around." Erik held his ground but dropped his gaze towards the floor after awhile. Richard took this as the fact that he won and he gave a smug smile to the back of Erik's head. He stroked Erik's head almost lovingly and Erik shuddered at his touch.

"Very well then," piped up Pete. "How about we get down to dinner before all the food's gone?" Richard turned on his heel and started down the hall with Pete at his side and they spoke in whispers. Steve fell in beside Erik and hung an arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

"You deserved First Chair Steve." Said Erik quietly as he glared daggers at Richard's back. Steve gave a small laugh and shook his head.

"Thank you for the compliment Erik, but I did not. All the men you saw around Maestro in that group were tremendous violinists. One day I hope to be worthy of First Chair, but happily I'll say that day is not today. Richard earned it fair and square and I daresay he was truly the best for the job. Plus he's a friend, it's always nice to see a friend get something that he deserves." Steve looked up from their conversation and saw Pete and Richard who were walking far ahead of them. "We better hurry up. Ernie's appetite sometimes gets away with him, there might not be any food left when we get there." Said Steve and he quickened his pace towards the hall for dinner.

Erik was finally seated on a stone stair surrounded by Steve, Pete, and Ernie who had his arm around two ballet girls. Richard was nowhere in sight, and Erik had to admit that he was quite glad of that fact. Erik had a warm plate in his lap, which was filled with food as were the tables still, which made Steve very surprised. Erik was eating, careful to avoid joining the conversation because he was too preoccupied with what he said to Richard. It was a thoughtless and careless thing to do. Didn't he want Richard to like him? _He's mean you know. Not a very nice person, would you really want a person like that to be your friend?_ Erik's voice said in an accusing tone. Erik shook his head and grudgingly admitted that he didn't really want to be a friend to someone who could not accept something graciously. He already had Mme. Giry to deal with and Maestro was turning into another force that he had to reckon with, he didn't know weather or not he could deal with Richard being angry with him. _It's your fault you know that? _Said the voice to Erik, _you should apologise, see if he'll at least accept it and move on. You're a very stupid and foolish person I hope you know. _Yes, Erik knew that. The nuns had told him constantly when he was living in the orphanage. He was jarred out of his thoughts as he heard his name being said.

"…Erik?" He shook his head and looked at Ernie who had asked the question.

"Sorry Ernie, I wasn't paying attention. Can you repeat what you asked?" Ernie smirked at Erik.

"Erik…Erik…Erik…" Ernie said playfully punching him in the arm. "You're supposed to listen to us, you're supposed to tune out everything that the managers say. You've got it confused. Steve! I did expect better from you, leading young Erik astray. Tsk…tsk…" Ernie continued, wagging a finger in front of Steve's face who broke out into a wide smile and chuckled at the joke. He threw up his hands in surrender.

"My apologies Monsieur Ernie." He bowed slightly at the waist from his supine position. "I shall try and keep the boy under control and attend to my duties with more vigour."

"See to it that it's done Steve. I shall not permit any foolishness in my Opera House!" said Ernie with a strong likeliness to one of the managers.

"And _I _shall not permit drunken violinists who poke fun at our managers who deem you worthy to pay you salaries and give you board. Maybe I should tell them the error of their ways?" Ernie's face looked as though he had just sat down on top of a tack and the smile dissolved off his face. His head whipped around and Erik glanced over at Steve and Pete who were staring intently up and Mme. Giry who now stood over the four of them. All of them wore looks of surprise and a hint of fear. They quickly rushed to get into a standing position, but Mme. Giry shook her head quickly, signalling that they remain sitting before her. At this point in time much of the hall had emptied as ballet girls and orchestra members either returned to their rooms, sneaked off into the darkened corners or stepped out into the city streets of Pairs before the evening bell. Her black eyes bore into the three and a hint of a smile passed over her features as her eyes rested on Erik for the longest. She motioned for him to stand and he quickly got the message and scrambled to hit feet, careful not to step on her black cloak, which fell to the floor and was attached with a silver clasp at her neck. Her gaze returned to Pete, Steve and Ernie who all looked very small and insignificant sitting down on the ground. "Return to your room. Erik follow me." She turned away from them and Erik threw the three of them a plea for help but they merely shook their heads and made the signal of a noose around their neck. Erik took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm as he turned back towards the back of Mme. Giry who was almost through the doors and rushed off to catch up to her. They left the darkening hall and walked over towards the managers' office where he had been twice before: Once for his interview and once for his eavesdropping. He hoped that he had returned for the first reason and not for the second. She pushed the door open quickly and stepped inside, Erik behind her. The door closed with a sickening thud behind him and Erik felt an overwhelming sense of fear enveloped him. The feeling was twice as worse when he was here last crouching outside the door. He struggled to remain calm as his eyes swept the room and saw M. Firmin, M. Andre and Richard who was leaning against the wall and was smiling politely at him. M. Firmin was sitting in the chair and Andre was standing directly behind him and Mme. Giry took his shoulders and steered him over towards the desk and forcefully pushed him into the seat in front of the desk. The sinking feeling increased and Erik felt that his heart was in his throat. His fingers also throbbed more painfully due to the increase of his heart rate. He tried to maintain the expression on his face as one of innocence but it was challenging due to the pain and fear. Mme. Giry removed her hands and returned to the back of the room, leaning against the door to prevent anyone from entering, although Erik had a strong suspicion that it was to keep him from leaving. Firmin folded his hands and placed them on the desk and surveyed Erik.

"Welcome again to our office Erik." Smiled Andre. Erik wasn't sure if this greeting was truly sincere, but he kept his mouth shut tight, afraid that he would say something else that was stupid. He knew he was in enough trouble as it was, it seemed to always land him in the managers' office, just like back at the orphanage. Richard had obviously told Mme. Giry and the managers what he had said and now they were going to kick him out. _You've lasted this long, be proud. _Said the little voice in his head. Erik knew it was the truth, three times he evaded the managers and Mme. Giry and avoided his fate of being put back on the streets. Third time lucky he hoped, even though deep down where he stomach squirmed he knew this was it.

"Erik, Richard had told us some things about you, things that we must take action against. He had shown us what we did wrong. Normally, no one could change our decision but well as you must well know Richard is our new First Chair." Said Firmin.

"Every new First Chair, in any of the sections, is granted one wish to do with the orchestra, how it's run, or about it's players." Continued Andre. Erik shot a worried glance over towards Richard and saw that his smiled widened considerably, and Erik knew he was done for.

"I'll go pack my things." Said Erik sadly. Andre widened his eyes in surprise.

"Well that would be a good idea Erik, but how would you know what Richard's wish was?" Erik shrugged.

"It's not hard to guess." He faced Richard openly. "We've never really got along well he and I." He paused, considering his next words, "I'd just like to say before I leave that I'm sorry for what I did and said to you. It wasn't right and I apologise profusely." Richard gave a sceptical look as Erik turned back towards the managers. Both the managers now had an equally surprised look on their faces and Erik faltered.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" asked Andre, "What things did you say and do to him?"

"Oh hush Andre." Said Firmin and a smile brightened his features. "He must be talking about singing to him."

"Ah of course!" exclaimed Andre.

"No need to apologise dear boy." Said Frimin, "If you hadn't done and said the things you did we wouldn't be doing this."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Said Erik. Firmin glanced towards Richard.

"Did you even ask if the boy had stage fright?" Richard shrugged to say that he didn't know.

"Stage fright?" asked Erik.

"Do you even know what we're talking about?" asked Andre, peering closely at Erik.

"I'm not quite sure now. I assumed Richard would kick me out of the Opera House." The two managers burst out into laughter and took their handkerchiefs and dabbed at their eyes.

"Quite the contrary my dear boy." Said Firmin slamming his hand down on the table. "Richard speaks quite highly of your singing talents."

"But I never…" protested Erik.

"Of course you did!" snapped Richard and Erik's eyes flew to Richard's who was staring coolly at him. "After Maestro's meeting, you sang to me. After hearing your obvious talent, I couldn't let it go to waste, now could I?" Erik's mouth hung open as he stared at Richard whose face was starting to form a hint of a smile. Andre looked at Richard with respect.

"He's quite a man Erik, you're lucky to be his friend. His wish was for you to be in the leading role of our Operas."

"He thought you were that good." Added Firmin. "However, as we've not had the pleasure to hear you sing, we've put you in the chorus line. We just cannot push Senior Pianji aside he's been our leading tenor for many, many seasons." He turned towards Richard and nodded, "even though we do trust your judgement, you do understand don't you?" Richard nodded stiffly and Erik could detect a hint of annoyance in him.

"Of course Messieurs." He said with a graceful bow. "I only wish he could have better roles once in a while other then chorus line. I should have known not to ask for the leading tenor for such a child. My apologies."

"No need Richard, no need." Replied Andre with his famous dismissive hand wave.

"Good now that that's sorted out, would you mind Mme. Giry?" Erik jumped at the mention of her name, he had completely forgotten that she was still in the room.

"Of course Messieurs." She said and placed her hands on Erik's shoulders and made him stand. "Come Erik, we'll collect your things and I'll bring you to your new room." His heart sank, not only would he not see his friends again but, now he would be under the command of Mme. Giry and he was already in her bad books.

**A/N: There you go guys, three whole chapters! All new! Yay for me! –gives myself a pat on the back- hope you enjoy these because I won't be able to post anymore until the weekend so you'll have to make do with the ones I've given you. Muahahaha! I love being evil! I guess you'll all just have to review, and maybe I'll be nice enough to post earlier! –hugs to all my reviewers so far- **


	9. A Performer's World

**A/N: Hey guys, thanks for being so patient. Here's chapter 9, hope you like it!**

Chapter 9

Mme. Giry's grip on his shoulders seem to tighten as she half dragged half pushed him through the dark corridors lit only by torchlight. Erik had a strong feeling of deja vu since only a day ago, he was being led in the dark to something he did not know, and only a day later it was happening again. His mind reeled, as the torches seemed to flare up in greeting at the two of them. The soft glow illuminated Mme. Giry's features, which Erik found himself staring at. They were certainly stern looking, a mask to cover her true emotions, Erik thought. The black clothing she wore helped her to blend into the darkness of the walls and if her face had been covered as well he would certainly loose her in the inky blackness. They hastily made their way down the stone stairs, which all looked the same, however Mme. Giry seemed to know exactly where she was going. The silence was complete except for the occasional murmurs behind the doors, which they flew past, the popping of the flames in the torches, and their own footsteps. They slowed down quickly as they approached the door where Erik was staying with Richard, Steve, Pete and Ernie.

"If any of them are not in here, I'll kill them." Mme. Giry muttered under her breath. If Erik hadn't known Mme. Giry's manner, he could have sworn that she was kidding.

He knew she wasn't.

Mme. Giry rapt on the door twice quickly and pushed it open. Erik could hear scurried footsteps and hushed whispers as the door swung open. Mme. Giry strode in with her head held high and an unreadable expression on her face. Erik followed quietly behind her. He breathed a sigh of relief to see Steve, Pete and Ernie sitting around the table they had been playing cards at the day that Erik had arrived. He was glad that they had obeyed Mme. Giry's wishes. He knew they had known her longer then him, but she was very threatening to him in the short time that he had known her. She glanced around the room and searched it quickly for something. When she didn't find what she was looking for, without turning around, she addressed Erik quietly. He listened hard so as to not miss anything.

"Which bed is yours?" Her stern voice broke the silence of the room.

"The far one on the right Mme." She nodded but did not move.

"Collect your things and we'll be on our way." Erik swallowed and moved out from behind her and made his way over towards his bed. Dropping down to his knees, he reached for his things, which were currently residing under the bed. He pulled out the flagon, the cloak and the violin and bow, he had finished the bread long ago. He wrapped the cloak around the violin and flagon and tied it off to make it easier to carry. He returned to his standing position and left the side of the bed and made his way back to the side of Mme. Giry. She peered down at him, almost in disgust, and motioned towards his bundle of things. "Is that all you brought?" She asked. Erik nodded afraid to speak another word, lest it anger Mme. Giry more then she already seemed to be. She nodded, clearly uninterested and returned her gaze towards the three people still sitting around the table. They stared back at her, but one by one they dropped their gaze to the floor. Erik wondered briefly if he would ever survive his time here under her command as a singer and dancer. Mme. Giry turned again on her heel and grasped his arm painfully, which made his fingers throb again. Erik threw a glance back at the three friends he knew he was leaving.

"Where is Richard?" He mouthed silently. Before Erik disappeared out the door, he could just catch a glimpse of what Steve said back.

"First Chair's Chamber." Erik nodded and waved and Mme. Giry headed out the door and closed it behind them, shutting him off from his friends.

It was a struggle for Erik to keep up, with one arm in the iron-like grasp of Mme. Giry, and the other arm clutching the bundle of the few possessions he owned. He head swam with so many thoughts that he was sure his head would explode at any minute. As soon as he thought that, he suppressed a laugh picturing what Mme. Giry would do and how she would react if she had to deal with his head exploding. In addition to this thought, Erik wondered vaguely why Richard told the managers to make him a singer in the chorus line. It was much more then he could ever hope for, he adored singing, perhaps even more then playing the violin. Erik knew better though, Richard hadn't put him into the chorus line for him, no somehow, putting Erik in the chorus line would benefit Richard somehow. Erik couldn't think why Richard would possibly waste a wish on him. Ever. How could it benefit Richard? Well, thought Erik, I would be away from Richard, Richard would be happy with that, but so was he. The reason had to be something that made Erik miserable and Richard very happy. Not a single thought came to Erik's mind, so instead he had to settle with not knowing what Richard was up to, which made Erik very frustrated. It didn't seem long before Erik and Mme. Giry had arrived at another door, this one however was not on the floor below, in fact it was on the floor above the main floor. So, Erik thought, the orchestra men are below, and the actors, singers and dancers are above, makes sense.

"New arrival." Announced Mme. Giry as she opened the door and pulled Erik inside with her. Are any of these doors locked? Thought Erik. He didn't have much time to dwell on the thought however, because an odd sight met Erik's eyes and Mme. Giry stopped short and her nails dug painfully into his arms.

"Oh…er…Mme. Giry…" trailed off a man sheepishly, who was sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by many ballet girls, who had stopped in mid giggle as Mme. Giry entered the room. Erik spotted another man who was standing up before them and wearing a ridiculous costume with an elaborate mask covering his face. He had obviously been dancing or something because he was panting quite hard even though he was trying to stop his body heaving. The room wasn't much larger then the one he had been previously roomed in, but it was much more furnished, and looked to be better taken care of then the orchestra dormitories were. First of all there was a fire place, with crackling flames was against one wall, and two bedside tables stood beside each holding a huge vase packed with flowers. There were four beds positioned in the corners, but from the look of things, only two were being occupied, and Erik guessed it was the man in the costume and the man on the floor who were living here. Erik saw her eyes narrow and he wondered how much more misbehaviour she could endure before she snapped. The rest of the room seemed to notice and the ballet girls got up shakily and curtsied to Mme. Giry before hurrying out of the door and far away from her. Erik could have sworn as they passed that she whispered to them.

"Getting out of here would be a very good idea." She hissed quietly. That seemed to quicken their pace and before Erik could blink, only the two men were left in the room. The man on the floor brushed himself off and stood up, trying to help the other man to get off his costume. When they succeeded, Mme. Giry let out her breath and pushed Erik forward.

"To what do we own the…er…pleasure of your company Mme.?" said the man without costume with almost forced pleasant tone. Mme. Giry, noting this, smiled briefly at the both of them and they seemed to shift uncomfortably, and Erik was reminded of himself.

"As I believed I announced Erik is a new arrival." She nodded at Erik, "I expect that you will make him feel comfortable." Erik smiled to himself. He wasn't sure how they would make him feel comfortable when they themselves seemed to be the farthest thing from comfortable anyone could get. Both men nodded quickly, so as to keep Mme. Giry from becoming more livid with them. "Now." She said as she left Erik's side and began to walk over to the two men inspecting the room quite thoroughly as she went. When she reached the side of the man in costume she grabbed a handful of the cloth in her hand and continued, "What were you all doing in here?" Erik felt sorry for the two men, he could see the terror in their faces and knew what it was like because she had faced him the same way that she now faced them. It was when she almost caught him eavesdropping and he had been terrified so he could relate to the two men who stood before her angry, questioning, gaze.

"It really wasn't what you thought Mme." protested the man in costume.

"Oh?" replied Mme. Giry as she pulled the fabric closer towards herself. "And what did I think it was?"

"We were just…well I would have thought you thought we were talking about the Opera Ghostess."

"I see… and you were really doing what?"

"Playing a bit of charades Mme." he nodded, "Not about her though!" he added quickly.

"And not about me or the managers I presume?"

"No Mme. not at all!" he stammered.

"Just having some harmless fun were you?" He nodded very quickly this time, very eager to get her away from him.

"Yes Mme. just harmless fun, that's all it was."

"True, true." Added the man beside him and Mme. Giry turned her gaze on him, and Erik noted that he now wished he had just kept silent.

"And the ballet girls were here partaking in that harmless fun Gregory?"

"Yes Mme."

"Nothing else?"

"No Mme." She nodded slowly and her eyes left him and she surveyed them both.

"I see, well you both had better make sure that you or any other ballet girls do not have anymore harmless fun up here or I shall have to take action."

"Yes Mme." they both said in frightened unison. She turned and headed for the door, and Erik saw them take a huge sigh of relief. She opened the door and stepped outside, her black cloak swirling around her and she disappeared and shut the door. The men passed a hand over their eyes and both sank down onto separate beds. After a few moments, they both glanced up and Erik and gave two slight smiles.

"Welcome Erik, to a performer's world."

**A/N: Ah…Mme. Giry, I thank you for your character…I love writing her…-giggle- she's so strict! I just love it when she bosses people around. Keep reading and reviewing!**


	10. The History of the Ghostess

Chapter 10

Erik was now quite sure that he could not handle being under the command of Mme. Giry as a singer and dancer. This was definitely what Richard had in mind when he made Erik part of the chorus line. This would make Erik miserable, and Richard knowing Mme. Giry very well, would mean that he would very happy with the treatment that she gave Erik. He frowned to himself and silently cursed Richard for wanting to make his stay here miserable. He decided then and there that he would not give Richard that satisfaction. He would grin and bear anything that he or Mme. Giry threw at him. With this in mind he now faced the two gentlemen who were donning their night shirts and getting ready for bed. He glanced at them, but they were clearly preoccupied with other things at the moment, and did not have their attention on him.

"Right then, shall I just take this bed then?" questioned Erik. The man who Erik still didn't know the name of murmured something that sounded like 'yes' and Erik headed over towards the bed that was the furthest from the fire, needing no warmth or light. He placed his things under the bed and looked under his pillow for a night shirt but found none.

"So you're new here then Erik?" Erik spun around and met the gaze of the man who Mme. Giry had called Gregory. Erik nodded in his direction and glanced at the other man who was now throwing more wood on the fire. "Great to have someone new. We got a lot to teach you. I'm Greg by the way." He held out his hand and Erik walked over to shake it.

"Hello Gregory. Nice to meet you." Gregory chuckled and his blue eyes crinkled in the corners as he ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair.

"The only person who calls me that are the managers and Mme. Giry. Please call me Greg." Erik smiled, Greg was a very nice looking person and from what Erik saw of the day's practice all the performers were good looking. Greg motioned to the man who now sat beside him on the bed with his head. "This is Sampson."

"Oi Greg, I can introduce myself." Sampson held out his hand for Erik to shake, which Erik did gladly. "You heard right, the name's Sampson, good to meet you. We always are looking for young blood, some of us are getting tired doing Carlotta's work for her." Greg rolled his eyes and nodded. Erik smiled briefly, he had seen Carlotta that day and there were really no proper words to describe her. She was…well…Carlotta. Noisy, bossy, extremely sensitive, and flamboyant, with a certain disposition to talk down to anyone below her, which turned out to be everyone.

"But…" said Greg with a smile, "…if you're good enough, you won't be doing it for long." Erik sat down on his own bed and regarded the two men who were sitting across from him.

"What kind of things would someone do for Carlotta?" asked Erik.

"Ah! It's LA Carlotta to you." Said Greg with a smirk and Sampson joined in with a hearty laugh.

"Hmm…well the worst would be to take care of her little dog, it's got a viscous temper, not as bad as hers I don't think, but a close second. You could always help her with fitting her costume, but that's mainly for the sewing ladies, but they do get tired quite quickly." Explained Sampson.

"I do feel bad for them, always having to come up with a good excuse to back out of their duties and tell them to the managers." Said Greg thoughtfully.

"They're getting pretty good at it, seeing as how much practice they've had." Shrugged Sampson.

"So those are probably the worst I would say." Continued Greg, "you'd also probably need to run simple errands for her, getting hair brushes, or jewellery, or going to yell at other people. That's the kind of stuff I like, makes me feel like Mme. Giry Personally I detest dogs, ever since I've seen the one she has." Greg shuddered. Erik grinned at exchanged glances with Sampson. There was a lull in the conversation and Erik took this opportunity to say something that had been burning in his mind since he had entered the room.

"Who is the Opera Ghostess?" Sampson and Greg threw him a terrified look and Sampson leaped up and rushed for the door, which he threw open. His head twisted from side to side and he shut the door quickly and locked it. Ah, thought Erik, so they can be locked. Sampson returned to he bed and they glared at him suspiciously.

"You haven't heard of her?" Greg whispered glancing around fearfully.

"No I'm new here remember?" They both nodded slowly, as if seeing him for the first time.

"Right…right…"Sampson trailed off, "We can't talk about it, you saw how mad she got."

"Mme. Giry?" Erik queried and Sampson nodded swiftly.

"The Opera Ghost is never seen by anyone, except to those who she chooses." Whispered Greg.

"Greg…come on, we've already got in trouble once this night, let's not make it two."

"No, Erik's got to know this. It's important." Sampson sighed in defeat and let Greg speak.

"No one's sure what she looks like, because she kills whoever sees her." Erik's mouth hung open in fright. How could any woman do this? "She's haunted the Paris Opera House since before it was built. Some say that she herself was an opera singer and that her voice will make anyone deaf. She's a ghost but she's made of flesh and blood just like you and me, and she uses the Punjab Lasso." Both men shuddered in fright and swept the room with their eyes as if afraid that the Ghostess herself would pop out of one of the walls and eat them alive.

"But, if she kills anyone who sees her, where do these stories come from?" asked Erik. **(A/N: Yay for Jack Sparrow Quote! Arg! The Black Pearl! Swash, swash, buckle, buckle!–giggle-) **Greg looked at Sampson and shrugged.

"Good question. I bet she spreads those stories herself, so that people won't bother her. Seems funny to me, she's always bothering the managers, not that they don't deserve it mind you."

"How?" asked Erik completely wrapped up in the tale.

"Through special notes. Never seen one myself, but the managers always get really quiet when Mme. Giry brings them one. I always have a laugh because it shuts the pair of them up, even Carlotta." Sampson grinned in spite of the situation.

"And what's the Pubab Lasso?" asked Erik

"You mean, The Punjab Lasso." Said Greg really quietly, so quietly that Erik had to lean forwards just to catch the following words. "It's a terrible thing, kills instantly it does. She throws it around the neck of the poor soul who was stupid enough to incur her wrath and he dies in a horrible fashion, all blue in the face." Greg closed his eyes and took a breath. "I would never want that to be my death. Never ever."

"I second that." Joined in Sampson. A few moments later when both of the men had composed themselves, Sampson looked into Erik's eyes with a serious stare. "If you remember nothing else lad, remember this: Your hand at the level of your eyes." Erik nodded, quite unsure what this was supposed to mean, but had no intention of pressing the matter further.

"Have either of you seen the Punjab actually used?" They both shook their heads.

"No never, like I said, the Opera Ghostess only can be seen when she wants to be seen." Said Greg, "Have you ever heard of a man called Jacques Laffrey?" Erik nodded.

"Yes, I was in the orchestra before I came here. I was only there a day, but I heard he was in First Chair for quite a while."

"Right you are. Do you know what happened to him?"

"I think Andre or Firmn said that he retired." Both of the men looked at each other and grinned.

"So the boy doesn't know." Said Greg.

"Erik, that's what the managers were pushing to the newspapers. This Opera House has had its fair share of scandals with the Ghostess hanging around all the time. There's quite a different story that circulating around here."

"What's the story?" asked Erik in a breathless whisper.

"He was killed, by the Opera Ghostess with the Punjab Lasso." Said Greg in an almost inaudible whisper. Erik's head swam and he too began to glance around the room. Who was this Opera Ghostess? Why did she kill Jacque Laffrey? Why was she tormenting the managers? Erik had heard from Mme. Giry from his eavesdropping that she was becoming for demanding. Demanding what? These questions stirred inside Erik's head and his eyes were loosing focus. The silence after Greg's comment was pressing in around him and he thought he was going to drown in it. He was finding it hard to breathe when a bang on the door made the three of them jump in terror and let loose three terrified shouts.

"Beds! Now!" Mme. Giry's voice floated through the crack in the door and quick as a flash, the three men were in their beds all trembling like aspen leaves in the cold wind of Autumn.

**A/N: Didn't want to put an authors note at the beginning lest it spoil the mood, which is does for me sometimes. More shivers down my spine for this one, I enjoyed telling the Opera Ghostess' history. R&R please! Plus if all my reviewers are really nice, I might post my next chapter which…dun…dun…dun you see your first look at Christine. Can't spoil anymore! –zips her lips closed-**


	11. The Nightmare

Chapter 11

Erik was tossing and turning in the frightful throes of a nightmare. He had hardly been asleep more then half an hour in his new surroundings when the night terror had begun. In the nightmare, Erik had been standing in one of the many torch lit halls of the Opera House during the night hours. Mme. Giry had obviously made her rounds already, because there was no patter or footsteps or hushed whispering coming from any of the doors, which lined the hallway. Erik was unsure of where he exactly was in the Opera House but he managed to make a choice and began to steadily make his way down, occasionally groping the walls when there wasn't enough light to see by. After many minutes of travelling like this, he noticed that the hallway was getting darker by the minute and he stopped in mid stride. A feeling of foreboding came over him and he backed up, heading towards the way he had come. His eyes never left the darkness, for he could only guess what things came out at night. He was about to turn around when his eyes caught a flicker of a shadow. He, of course, wouldn't have given this a second thought except that he recognised the shadow as the one he saw when he followed Mme. Giry and the two managers unsuspectingly. He halted his movements, but the shadow seemed to have noticed and disappeared in an instant blending with the other shadows from the torches. Erik had no idea what possessed him but he grasped the torch nearest to him and peered down the hall where the shadow had disappeared.

"_Wait!" _he called and ran forwards, desperate to find out this time, what or who the shadow was. His legs pumped hard and he breathed heavily as he dashed down the corridors, noticing briefly that his hand was not bandaged and so the pain did not slow him down. "_Wait, who are you?"_ he called again as he spotted the shadow a few meters before him and it froze in place. If it had a face the being turned so that the face was looking at Erik, but he could not distinguish the features because it was still dark. The body language told Erik that it was wary, but keen on hearing what Erik had to say. Erik came to a halt, keeping a respectful distance lest it be scared away.

"_The question is, who are you?" _it replied. Erik's eyes blinked in surprise, from the voice he could tell it was a woman.

"_I'm Erik." _Erik said, not really knowing what else to add. The shadow seemed to hover just beyond the reach of the torch's flame.

"_A singer."_ The shadow said it as more of a statement then a question and Erik nodded, unsure of whether or not the being could actually see him.

"_I've been here two days."_ Said Erik not wanting the silence to continue. The shadow moved closer towards him and he could see the bottom of a white dress emerging from the shadows however the face stayed in the dark. Now I know it's a woman, thought Erik.

"_Yes, I am a woman Erik." _She said reading his thoughts and he took a step back in surprise. "_And I've seen you before."_ Erik fidgeted nervously with his night shirt and tried to look innocent because he did not want this woman to get a bad impression of him. God knows, he'd had enough of bad impressions to last him the rest of his life.

"_I think I saw you too."_ Said Erik putting his trust in fate. The woman stepped forward menacingly and Erik took another step back, frightened this time. However from the tone in the woman's voice, she seemed happy almost.

"_I do believe you have Erik." _Erik could have sworn that if he could see her face she would be smiling at him. "_When you were out of bed early and listening in on a conversation that you weren't supposed to hear."_ Erik gulped and began to look for a way to get away from this woman. He had been caught, she was sure to tell Mme. Giry and the manager's about him, and then he'd be kicked out, despite what Richard would say. When none came to his eyes he looked back at the white dress, which stood before him. "_You however, have to reason to fear me Erik. If I had wanted to kill you, I would have done so earlier. If I had wanted you kicked out of the Opera House, I would have seen to it earlier as well." _Erik cast a suspicious glance at the white dress and muddled over her words. He had barely begun to think, when the woman turned herself around and began to walk quietly away. He was snapped out of his thoughts and looked after the disappearing woman.

"_Wait!" _He called after her and began to run again. The woman turned around again, although this time her body language told him that he had better be quick about his business. He swallowed hard and took in a breath sharply. "_You didn't say who you were."_

_"Maybe…"_ she replied quickly, "…_I chose not to tell you." _Erik considered this for a moment and then shook his head.

"_I'm sorry…I just wanted to know."_

"It_'s not important for you to know at this moment._"

"_Will I see you again?" _Erik said, feeling more confident and more sure of himself then he actually was. The woman seemed to think this over carefully, and she took longer to reply to him. She kept her face in the shadows but came very close to Erik and laid her hands gently on his shoulders. He could feel her soft, cool breath on his face and it seemed to relax him. Erik knew she was right there in front of him, but some part of him told him that she wasn't really there, that she was a part of his imagination. She seemed real, but looked so frail with the flame flickering off her dress and the shadows creeping around her, threatening to make her dissolve if he and her did not speak to each other. He had no idea why he had such a strong draw towards her, something about her, compelled Erik to be with her and know more about her.

"_I'll always be here in your dreams Erik. I'll always sing to you in your sleep." _She said softly releasing his shoulders and turning back away from his for the last time. This time he knew that his time with her was over for that moment, and if he trusted in her words, he would always be able to see her. He reached out towards her back, which was retreating into the shadows, faster and faster with each step she took.

"_I'll come back." _Erik whispered, afraid that she wouldn't hear him. Without turning around, she acknowledged his answer with a slight nod towards the wall.

"_I know you will Erik." _She said simply, and disappeared altogether into the pitch, blackness of the night. Erik sank to the cold stone floor and let the torch he was holding fall to the floor and it snuffed out as the heat of the flame met the floor. He put his head in his hands and he began to shake, with what emotion, Erik did not know. "_Don't forget Erik, I'm your Angel." _Erik smiled as her last words floated down the hallway and he raised his eyes towards the hallway, but suddenly it vanished. Erik screamed, but no sound came out of his mouth, and as quick as the corridor disappeared, Erik was thrown into a small room, which was lined with glass mirrors. The ground was bare, and covered with brown sand, but it felt cold underneath Erik's naked feet. The only object in the room was a tree, and as Erik made his way over to it, he noticed that the tree wasn't alive, even though it was covered with lush green leaves. He ran his hand across the bark and it felt as smooth as glass, and the leaves felt like velvet. Erik stood in wonder at it all when the sound of splitting wood split the silence and reached his ears. He spun around under the canopy of velvet leaves and a rope met his frightened eyes. It was quite a long rope that hung down and was tied off to a sturdy branch up above. He looked at the length of the rope, it was quite long, but didn't quite reach the ground. It just fell to the height of Erik's head.

And at the end of the rope was a noose.

It came to just the right height so that if Erik's neck was in it, he would surely die. Erik was scared stiff that he couldn't seem to move but his brain was screaming at him to move. There's nowhere to go, I'm trapped, thought Erik, where's my Angel? He glanced desperately around, with futile hope that she would be standing nearby to comfort him.

Of course she wasn't there.

It all happened as soon as he took his gaze off the noose. In a flash, it **was **his neck in the noose, and it was trying to squeeze the breath out of him. To kill him. His mind went blank no thoughts came to mind. He silently screamed, producing no results of course. However, in the moment when his mind started to go into a fog, due to the lack of oxygen, a blur of faces and sounds leaped around his mind. It was all a jumble but he could pick out certain phrases.

"_…Nice to perform here gentlemen, thanks for the opportunity."_

"_You are always welcomed back to the Opera House Jacque."_

" _Thank you Andre, but I believe a good retirement is in order." _Loud drunken laughter rose to a crescendo in Erik's ears and he winced at the volume.

"_Are you sure we can't ask you to stay?"_

"_No, no Firmin. I must be on my way."_

"_Very well Jacque. Safe travels."_ In front of Erik's eyes swam a blurry scene which held Andre, Firmin and who he assumed to be Jacque Laffrey all shaking hands. The scene dissolved and screaming was heard in the distance. A cold wet hand seemed to close around Erik's throat and he tried to hold it off, even though there was nothing there. Erik shut his eyes against the voices and visions, hoping they would go away, but he was so wrong.

They multiplied in number and volume.

"_Please, I didn't do anything." _A scene popped into Erik's head of a darkened corridor, much like that one he was in before. He saw Jacque there whimpering in the corner and holding his hands across his face, trying to shield himself from something. A high-pitched voice screamed right in Erik's ear, quite angry. He saw a blurry hand reach out and grab hold of Jacque's matted black hair and he cried as the hand twisted his head up to face the other person who Erik could not see. "_Please, I didn't do anything." _Jacque repeated with overwhelming fear in his eyes.

"_You betrayed me. You've heard what I do to people when they betray me." _Jacque nodded in terror, clawing the wall, trying to leave. It pained Erik to see anyone in this amount of pain, he only wished he could see who was the cause.

"_I didn't betray you…I didn't say anything!" _Jacque cried, tears now streaming down his face. "_Please…have mercy." _The voice laughed harshly and Jacque closed his eyes against his attacker. "_I don't want to die…"_ Jacque murmured.

"_You should have thought of that before." _The voice said in anger. "_Be lucky, you've lasted this long."_ With that a noose, just like the one his own neck was in, was flung around the neck of Jacque. He screamed and ripped at the noose trying to get it off. The struggle lasted only seconds as first Jacque's screams were cut off and then his body fell limply to the side of the wall.

Erik's eyes fluttered open and he was drenched in a cold sweat sitting up in his bed.

**A/N: OK, forget what I said about my previous chapters, I LOVED this one the most. Are you all happy to see Christine? Although shh...Erik doesn't know it yet... Ah, I hoped you liked it as much as I do! Squirming characters! R&R!**


	12. Lavatory Drama

**A/N: Sorry about the long wait reviewers and readers alike, my computer had a major melt down and I only just got it working again. Please accept my humble appologies!I LOVED last chapter and I warn you this one is a little bit of a filler chapter. I do hope you enjoy it though, please R&R!**

Chapter 12

The early morning light crept stealthily into the new room, which Erik was now sharing with Sampson and Greg. Erik was sitting up on his bed with his head in his hands trying to make sense of his nightmare. _You're crazy, forget about it. You only had it because of the story that your friends told you. Pull yourself together. _Erik's little voice scolded him. He raised his eyes and let them rest on the fire, which had long since died out, and only the sooty remains were left. After Erik's nightmare he hadn't really slept at all. He fell in and out of sleep very frequently, he was scared that if he fell asleep then someone else would get killed. On the other side, he desperately wanted to see the woman who had come at the beginning of his dream. She told him to call her his Angel. Erik shook his head and heaved a sigh while staring accusingly at the fireplace, as if it was the cause of his problems. Today was his first performer's practice under the very stern eye of Mme. Giry, he knew that not sleeping would cost him dearly today and he wished silently that the light now spilling into the room would go away so he wouldn't have to face the day.

_DING! DING! DING!_

That was the Paris clock striking 7:00am, which meant in was time for breakfast. Erik could hear the muffled speeches of the two men whom he shared a room with and knew that they were trying to get up as fast as they could. Erik, who had changed in the middle of the night since he had nothing else to do, managed to slip out of the room before the other two noticed he was gone. They were good guys, but Erik had only known them a day, not even, right now he wanted to talk to Steve.

Erik walked along the seemingly endless corridors, stopping every so often at a dead end when he found it. Groaning in annoyance, Erik now thought he should have waited until Sampson and Greg had got up so that he wouldn't be lost now. Erik glanced around and managed to spot a large group of ballet girls who had just disappeared through a door. He dashed quickly and followed them down the stairs and then towards the sweet aromas, which were filling the hallways from the front hall. They all arrived together, even though Erik had gone unnoticed the whole way and managed to grab a plate of food and begin his search for his friends. He didn't find them however, _late sleepers, _he thought quickly and noted that the performers started earlier then the orchestra and so he found a nice little corner and sat himself down in it. He began shovelling the food in by the mouthful and managed to only spit out food when others walked by and said hello. His stomach started to churn uncomfortably, telling him he ate too much and too quickly, which Erik had thought to be impossible. He placed his plate down and scurried off to find a washroom where he could try and make himself more comfortable.

He hurried past the stream of people who were just starting to enter the hall in search of food. The many lamps had already been lit, although Erik was not sure why since the sun provided enough light for the entire room and hallways. Erik realised that he much preferred walking the corridors by sunshine rather then moonlight. There were no shadows or dark shapes ready to claim you into their dark domain. Erik glanced warily around for a sign or something that pointed in the direction of the washrooms when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulders.

"Where are you off to?" Erik spun around and came face to face with Steve, the one person he wanted to see.

"Steve!" Erik said almost as a yelp of relief. "Come quickly, I need to go to the washroom, where is it?" Steve laughed and shook his head in disbelief at Erik.

"I'll take you after breakfast alright? You must be hungry." He said placing a warm hand on Erik's shoulder. Erik shook it off and Steve gave him an odd stare.

"No listen, I need to talk to you as well." Erik whispered, although it was quite unnecessary because the noise in the hallways was increasing steadily as more and more people were gathering together near the breakfast hall. Steve groaned and looked longingly towards the breakfast table where people were milling around it, chatting and laughing as the new day began. Erik grabbed Steve's arm frantically and pulled at it to get his attention back. "Steve please, as a friend. You'll have time after, the performers start earlier, and I promise it won't take long." Steve heaved another sigh and slowly his face changed into a small smile.

"Okay then. Follow me." Steve led Erik back the way he came and towards the two, large, front entrance doors that were still very impressive to Erik three days later. Steve looked like he was about to open the door but he turned left on the front red carpet and went down a lavishly adorned small hallway. It matched perfectly with the front hall and Erik was astounded.

"I've never seen this part before." Erik thought aloud. Steve laughed again and Erik smiled in spite of the situation that he found himself in. Erik had to tell someone about his dream and Steve seemed like the perfect choice. Everyone around here seemed to be pretty superstitious about the Opera Ghostess and Erik knew that Steve would give him some good advice about what he saw.

"There are many places here in the Opera House that you haven't seen. I'm sure that no one has seen them all." He thought a moment, "except perhaps Mme. Giry of course. Anyway, were not really supposed to be here. These are the audience lavatories, strictly off limits to performers and orchestra members." Erik nodded and peered behind him in case Mme. Giry was standing at the end following them, and he half expected her to be. When he glanced behind however, she was nowhere to be seen. _Off to prepare for this morning's lesson and practice. It's a dress rehearsal, second important to the actual performance, you had better do well. _The voice in Erik's said almost too calmly. She shoved those thoughts out of the way and saw that they were both standing in front of a beautiful door with the words: Gentlemen, carved into the middle of the door. Steve turned the brass knob and they both crept into the washroom, silently closing the door behind them.

The soft low flicker from the washroom lamps fell across the tiled floor and the marble sinks, all cleaned meticulously. The glow was soothing to Erik's eyes and he glanced around the rest of the small room with a relaxed gaze. The stalls were wooden with simple iron locks and doorknobs. There was a comfy purple couch, which Steve sat regarding Erik quietly. Erik turned to face his friend after finishing his examination of the room, he could admire it later when there was time, Steve was hungry for breakfast and Erik was hungry to share his dream with him.

"Steve…" Erik began, but faltered quickly after. Was it really such a good idea to tell Steve about his dream? The Ghostess, or who he thought was the Ghostess, had not forbid him to tell anyone. Then again, was she really the Ghostess? She told him to call her his Angel. Maybe Erik was wrong about everything, he usually was after all. He looked at Steve's inquisitive face again and decided finally that he shouldn't tell him. Steve would probably just tell him that he was being stupid. He would say that he had just been having a nightmare about the terrible story that Greg and Sampson had put into his head. Erik thought back to his father who had died when he was 7 years old. He had played the violin and taught Erik everything he knew about music, and in time Erik learned to appreciate music in all it's forms, singing or playing. His father also told him that artists, who honoured music with their time or talent, would be visited by the Angel of Music. Erik had certainly gave music his time.

Could she be his Angel of Music?

If so, Erik did not want to scare her away or make her angry so that she never came again. He was sure that he had made the right decision not to tell Steve. However, there was still one problem, Steve was sitting here and Erik needed something to tell him. Erik made his way over towards the purple couch where he could tell Steve was getting a bit impatient.

"Erik you can tell me anything." He put a comforting hand on Erik's shoulder and looked genuinely concerned for the young man. "What's wrong?" Erik looked into Steve's face and at once felt terribly guilty for lying to his good friend.

"I…I'm terrified for the dress rehearsal today. What happens if I forget a line and mess up?" Steve rolled his eyes in a friendly manner and stood up before him and put his hands on his hips. He began to make weird sounds from his throat, very high pitched and off tune notes, which sounded terrible and Erik had to cover his ears. Steve then began to sway his hips from side to side and prance around in a circle of the gentlemen's washroom and Erik burst into a fit of giggles considering how silly Steve looked. Eventually Steve stopped and gave a stern look at Erik who stopped laughing at once because of the serious look in Steve's eye.

"Why were you laughing?" He questioned with a hint of anger in his voice. Erik became a bit frightened, he had never seen Steve like this before he always seemed very easy going. "Be honest!" He barked loudly, which caused Erik to jump slightly in his seat.

"You sounded terrible and looked ridiculous." Said Erik truthfully, then fearing what the consequences would be closed his eyes and cowered on the couch. When no sound or any movement came, Erik opened his eye a tiny bit and saw Steve collapsed in a heap on the floor, laughing. Erik sprang up in surprise. "Steve! He called loudly, rushing over to his side. "Are you alright?" Steve was whipping tears from his eyes and with Erik's help he managed to stand up. When he caught his breath and after he managed to stop laughing at Erik's concerned look Steve grinned broadly.

"That was Carlotta in all her glory. Can you sing and dance better then that?" Erik gave a puzzled look and nodded slowly. Steve chuckled, "I'm sure most people could, anyhow, since you can, there is nothing to be worried about. She's the one in the limelight, not you." Erik silently thanked his father who was watching over him that he wasn't. "Good, now that that's settled, how about some breakfast?" Erik smiled slightly at Steve.

"You go on, I probably need to be getting to the auditorium. I've had my breakfast anyway." Steve nodded and gave him a small salute.

"I'll see you there then. Hope to see you on stage Erik." Both men smiled and waved as Steve made his way out of the washroom quicker then intended towards the food and Erik turned back to look at himself in the mirror. _You can do this, Steve had faith in you, plus you're just in the chorus, no one will notice you. _Erik's voice told him. Erik nodded and turned to follow Steve when a white spot caught Erik's eye. He looked over and sticking out from behind one of the mirrors was a white sheet of paper. He moved closer debating weather or not he should take it, but curiosity won out and he snatched the letter from its place. He glanced down at it and his eyes widened in surprise.

It was from the Opera Ghostess.

**A/N: Tee-hee! Cliffhanger! Whee! I'm soo evil! I guess you're all just going to have to review and wait for the next chapter! –laughs evilly-**


	13. Unexpected Opportunity

**A/N: Okay, first of all, I'm super sorry for not updating faster, and I hope dearly you can forgive me. I haven't been able to make it to my computer for the past weekend, because I've been volunteering. Forgive me!**

**Can YOU wait to see what happens next? Well you're going to have to read on and find out!**

_**TheAngel'sMaggie (Ann)**_

_**Trallgorda**_

_**Madame Opera Ghost (Meg) **_

**To all three of you, who have given me very good support and urged me to keep writing, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. An author is only good as her reviewers and I believe you three are VERY good. Thanks again, and I hope you continue to read and enjoy my stories. –hands them all flowers and chocolate- Enjoy!**

Chapter 13

Erik's hands shook as he held the letter firmly in his grasp. He couldn't believe that he was holding a note from the infamous Opera Ghostess. The black spindly child-like writing seemed to leer with distaste at him and he wondered briefly weather he should open it up. As before his curiosity won out and he opened it slowly trying to remain calm. It was meant for him after all, it had his name on it, which he reread just in case.

Erik.

It was for him, but how on earth did she know that he would be here? More importantly why would she waste her time writing to him, a lowly chorus boy, when she should be writing to Mme. Giry and the managers? He pondered this only for a second until he actually read what the Ghost had written to him.

_Fondest Greetings Erik,_

_It is a pleasure to speak to you again, if only through the written word. As I write this to you, I can see you in my head puzzling over many questions, questions, which shall have to remain unanswered until a later time. For now however, I shall give you only a few words of advice. When the opportunity presents itself, be ready to take it._

_Your Obedient Friend,_

_An Angel_

Erik sank to the floor in shock and relief; it wasn't the Ghostess that had written to him, it was his Angel. His Angel wanted to speak to him again, wanted to communicate with him. In Erik's heart something stirred, a deep resounding curiosity, fear, and the childlike innocence of one who has been sheltered for most of one's life. Erik glanced almost lovingly and longingly at the letter in his hands and smiled up to his father in Heaven. Erik prayed silently, thanking his father for sending him the Angel of Music to him. This was indeed a moment when Erik needed a guardian Angel watching over him, for today was dress rehearsal day and Erik knew having an Angel by his side wouldn't hurt. He stood up and put the note deep within the folds of his pant pocket and followed Steve out the washroom door.

Erik managed to reach the stage in the auditorium, heaving and panting just as he saw Mme. Giry begin her instructions for warm up for the day. Erik's heart sank, Mme. Giry would kill him for being late, or worse, kick him out of the Opera House. He could no longer think that Mme. Giry would be nice to him, after how he'd seen her react to other people. A sudden realisation dawned on Erik as he tried to make his was silently and unseen up towards the stage. This is what Richard wanted. He made Erik a chorus boy to get him into trouble and then get himself kicked out for good. Erik fumed in anger. How could anyone be that mean spirited. _It's alright, your Angel is guarding over you. _Erik reminded himself. With this in mind he finally made his way up to the stage and had just crept in behind Greg, _so far so good. _Suddenly a loud tapping met his ear and he glanced past the dancers and saw Mme. Giry pounding the floor with her sleek, black cane. Everyone around him stopped their movements and stood quietly facing the front like a group of soldiers would. He forced himself to swallow and breathe as Mme. Giry's commanding stare met his own.

"Erik Destler" **(A/N: Okay I've heard many last names for Erik, but I thought I'd use this one, as it's the one I've been most familiar with.)** She said sharply, moving towards his with her cloak swishing behind her like some huge bird of prey. Erik trembled slightly in his place, but made sure that he was concealing it from her. He'd been at the wrong end of her wrath before and not so long ago, he really didn't want to be facing her again so soon. Erik could tell however, that Mme. Giry knew that he was frightened. Erik bowed low, to avoid those piercing, black, hawk, eyes and to be respectful, and to look a little innocent on the slight off chance that she hadn't noticed that Erik had been late. "This is a dress rehearsal. Why might I ask are you dressed like that and why do you stroll in at 15 minutes past our start time?" Erik looked down at his regular clothing, he didn't have a costume to wear and so was wearing none. He had also lost track of time in the washroom and knew he had been late. He shook his head, Mme. Giry never missed a thing.

"I'm sorry Mme. I don't have a costume." He decided not to tell her that he had just become a chorus member and therefore obviously didn't have one. "And I'm late because I got lost coming here." He knew at once his lie didn't fool Mme. Giry and he scolded himself that he was so stupid.

"I see, and you found your way perfectly when you were in the orchestra last time, is your memory really that bad?"

"No Mme. I was downstairs, underground that time. This time I was upstairs, I completely forgot where I was and got lost."

"You could have followed the performers that were sharing a room with you."

"Yes Mme. I could have." Erik had no idea why he was pushing this matter so much, he knew much better then to argue with her, but for some reason, he kept on going. "You see, I got up earlier then the other two men and I wanted to get to breakfast first so that I wouldn't be in a large line." Mme. Giry nodded slowly, looking thoroughly unconvinced at his pitiful lie. However, she stepped away from him and took her place again at the front of the stage just as the men in the orchestra began to file in. Their voices floated up and around the stage, it really did have very good acoustics, and Mme. Giry wheeled around as the sounds and shuffles met her ears.

"Maestro I am rehearsing!" She called out in exasperation to the small man who was now approaching the conductor's box with a huge manuscript in hand and glanced up at her as she said this.

"My apologies dear Mme." He waved his hand behind him for silence and in an instant all the orchestra members fell silent as they took their places in the many chairs in the pit below the stage. Mme. Griy rolled her eyes and looked at the performers who stood before her.

"Places!" She commanded, "there will be no more warm up." The performers struggled to get off in time, so they could avoid her anger. Erik was about to leave with the others when Mme. Giry put a heavy hand on his shoulders, holding him back. "Get backstage to find a costume, it should be easy enough even for you. I trust you have memorised your lines and have not forgotten them like the time." Erik nodded and fled the stage and as he went off in search for the dressing rooms Erik could hear the faint noises of the orchestra tuning up.

Erik wandered backstage amongst the many performers who were adding touch ups of makeup, sneaking a small swig of some brown liquid, of chatting quietly in the shadows. He was completely lost and he looked around for some help but instantly some very tall and hard smashed into him and he was sent sprawling across the floor.

"Excuse me…" he muttered as he head exploded in pain and his fingers throbbed again.

"WHAT do you think you're doing?" shouted a large man dressed up in frills and a tight fitting brown costume. "Get out of my way, RIGHT NOW!" he shouted again and many dancers jumped up in fright at the loud noise and parted to let the man through. A tearful sob was heard behind the large man, and as he passed a woman in a ridiculous hat and a low cut, Roman looking costume followed in his wake. He put his hand around her protectively as she sobbed into a white handkerchief and led her though the many angry stares. "Carlotta, do not worry, they are jealous, they don't even deserve to be in your presence, let alone stand in our way." He cooed soothingly to her without any effect. "Come my dear, don't cry, your make up will run." This did the trick and she stopped crying quickly, but simpered and clung to his shoulder.

"Ubaldo…" she whined as they both disappeared onto the stage. Erik had no idea what had just happened, stars were making their way through his head making it hard to see and the pain from his fall and his hand was beginning to become unbearable. A pair of strong hands lifted Erik up and placed him up on his feet.

"Stupid Pianji, he saw you were there, it wouldn't have killed him just to ask you to move aside." Someone muttered to Erik. He nodded, although didn't really understand who Pianji was.

"Could you tell me where the costume room is? I need one before rehearsal starts." Erik could see the man nod.

"Of course, quickly this way, now that our stars…"he spat out the last word as if it were poison, "..are here, it shouldn't be too long before it starts." Erik nodded numbly and followed the man towards the costume room.

With bright blue eye shadow applied to his eyelids, black lip liner and a bit of blush along with some Roman armour and a sword strapped to his side with brown pants to finish off the look, Erik made his way back to the stage just as he heard shouting.

"I SHALL NOT SING!" It was a man's voice and Erik saw, as he looked out on stage, that it was the man who had knocked him over. "Carlotta and I have been treated quite unfairly and I shall not sing!" he shouted huffily at Mme. Giry and the managers. Mme. Giry seemed to take no notice, but the managers were beginning to look very upset and about to cry.

"But Senior Pianji surely you can't mean that, we've seen to it that you are treated with the utmost…"

"No! That is not true! Disrespect is what we get from the chorus line, I suppose that's the price you have to pay for being wonderful at what you do, but you promised that it would stop and it hasn't! Therefore I bid you adieu!" He said and began to lead Carlotta away who was still sobbing into her handkerchief and grasping Pianji's arm.

"Monsieur wait!" shouted Andre and Firmin together. "Please if you wouldn't mind, would you be so kind as to give us a private performance?" said Firmin hopefully. Pianji stopped dead in his tracks and wheeled to face the managers once more.

"I suppose you think this will make me happy?" Andre shifted uncomfortably in his place.

"Well, you'd would be happy Senior, but it would give the others a chance to admire you and respect you. You haven't been to most of our rehearsals and so they might have forgotten." Firmin said in a solemn tone. Erik was quite surprised at Firmin's clever answer, he never really expected the managers to be that bright. Pianji looked down his nose at Firmin and heaved out his chest importantly.

"If my managers wish, I shall perform for you." Pianji finally consented.

"Excellent!" Andre exclaimed as he clapped his hands together and dragged Firmin away from centre stage where Pianji approached with Carlotta staring at him, silent for once. Mme. Giry stood slightly in the shadows with an almost concerned look on her face as if she wanted to warn people, but she said nothing. Pianji smoothed out his costume and fixed his gaze out into the empty audience.

"Maestro." Said Pianji.

"From the beginning of the Opera please Senior." Replied Meastro as he waved his baton and the music began to play. There were no dancing girls before him, and no Carlotta screeching in her part, it was Pianji all alone.

"_Sad to return to find the land we love,_

_threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching grasp_"

He belted out right on pitch. The manager's noting the mistake of Pianji's by saying 'Roma" instead of 'Rome' kept silent but Mme. Giry spoke up quietly.

"Senior." She interrupted and he gave her a furious glare, which she endured unflinching. "I believe we've had this trouble before, it's not 'Roma' it's "Rome'" Senior Pianji looked positively livid at Mme. Giry for raising this and his eyes were as hard as ice. The managers threw a terrified glance at Mme. Giry for saying such a thing and they burst into protests.

"Senior, she doesn't know what she's talking about…"

"I think it, in fact sounds better with Roma…" Pianji held up his hand to stop the noise, and both managers fell silent.

"That's enough! I'm out of here! Refund your seats, I will not be singing! I'm leaving, goodbye!" He said as he stormed off with Carlotta at his heels wailing.

"Wait you both can't go!" called out Andre in desperation.

"I shall sing Monsieur, but only to let Pianji hear singing that it worth listening to. And only to let him see what dancers should be like." La Carlotta screeched over her shoulder and led the fuming Pianji away from the stage. As soon as they left, the stage was in complete silence until Firmin rounded on Mme. Giry.

"How dare you? You lost us our star! Almost both of them, what were you thinking woman?"

"Firmin, he's right, we'll have to refund our full house, think a full house!" screamed Andre in a terrible rage. Both managers seemed on the edge of insanity and were screaming at Mme. Giry who held her composure quite well. She waved her hand in the air in dismissal of their comments, one that Andre would have been proud of if he had not been yelling at her that moment.

"You need not bother with scolding me Messieurs. There is an understudy who can sing the part of Hannibal." The managers fell silent and stared at her and Erik was afraid that their eyes would pop out of their skulls if they weren't careful. She lifted her cane and pointed through the crowd and everyone's eyes followed to the end where a man stood in surprise.

"Him? God in Heaven you must be insane!" yelled Andre. Mme. Giry forced a smile it looked odd on her face, as she smiled at the man who she was pointing at.

"No Messieurs. I can assure you that Erik Destler can sing the part."

**A/N: A Carlotta type Pianji? Well, they're both still a pain in the butt, I just made Pianji more girly. Yay! This chapter turned out better then I thought it would, even a bit long if I might say so. What will Erik do? You'll just have to wait to see! CLIFFHANGER!**


	14. Pianji's Understudy

**A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers who have stuck with me, and I am so sorry for not updating earlier, I know it's been a long wait, so please accept my humblest apologies. I have been working all week and my brother as taken over our basement and has been living in it for the past week, so I could not get on. Hopefully, we won't run into that problem again. Thanks again to everyone, hope this chapter has been worth the wait.**

Chapter 14

Erik stared at Mme. Giry in disbelief and his head spun around to make sure that he had heard right and that she was indeed pointing to him. The room was filled with silence for the second time that day, a rarity that Erik considered himself very lucky to experience. Erik shifted very uncomfortably in his place, he didn't like being the centre of attention. He had been judged by the managers, Mme. Giry, and most of the orchestra members ever since he got here and he was getting quite tired of it. Why couldn't anything just be simple and easy in life? He opened his mouth to speak, but no words seemed to make their way out of his throat, so in the end he looked like a tiny frog, trying to catch flies in his mouth, dressed in a very odd looking Roman costume. Then a curious thought came into his head, they were the words of his Angel.

_When the opportunity presents itself, be ready to take it._

Erik swallowed his fears and took a step forward, where Pianji and Carlotta had been only moments before and gave a long look towards Mme. Giry. He could have sworn that she gave him a slight nod and a small smile to him. He then looked at the managers who were shaking their head and whispering to one another quietly, however, everyone could hear due to the silence of the room.

"Honestly, a chorus boy singing a lead role." Andre said. Erik searched the orchestra and saw Steve give him a tiny wave and flashed a huge grin. He also spotted Pete and Ernie who flashed him identical grins as well, and he knew that they wished him good luck. Erik then heard a voice speak up, it was someone Erik had not expected to say anything at all.

"If I might add my opinion Messieurs, I do believe that Mme. is right. Erik should have a chance to sing, I don't believe I need to remind you about my wish." Richard said quite coolly as he stood up and faced the stage. Erik focused his eyes on Richard and narrowed his eyes. Why does Richard want me to sing a lead part so badly? He thought. _He knows how nervous you are, if you fail you'll be kicked out. That's what Richard wants. _Erik's voice said in a matter-of-factly tone. Erik filled with a new sense of dread and his eyes left Richard and darted around the stage for some means of escape. He'd rather flee, then embarrass himself. Before he could move Firmin interrupted him.

"Right then Erik. Step forward and sing for us." Erik gave Firmin a terrified glance but just then his Angel's words echoed in his head. She'd protect him. She was his Angel of Music, and with her watching over him, nothing could go wrong. He stepped forward a little more confidently and ignored the smirk on Richard's face as he sat back down. Maestro stood on top of the conductor's box and gave Erik a nod before waving his arms and the music began.

"_Sad to return to find the land we love,_

_threatened once more by Rome's far-reaching grasp_"

Erik's melodious voice started out weak, but began to swell into a crescendo as the song floated around the auditorium and filled the ears of everyone present. Erik could feel that familiar sense of joy as he sang, and he savoured this moment in the spotlight. He was unaccustomed to being here, but if his Angel told him to seize an opportunity, he would, and this seemed like a great opportunity. As the notes and lyrics continued, Erik swept his gaze belfry across the room: from the stunned managers, to the delighted Maestro (who wouldn't have to deal with Pianji anymore) to the satisfied Mme. Giry and to the countless chorus people with a mixture of awe and admiration on their faces. As the musical interlude came up, Erik stopped singing and returned his gaze to the empty audience and closed his eyes, imagining what it would be like if it were full of people. The interlude ended and Erik sang again, trying to put as much emotion into the words as he could, to prove to Richard that he could do this, and to please his Angel and father. The song slowed down and came to it's close and Erik stood there, letting the last remains of the music wash over him. The auditorium was silent again for the third time, but didn't not stay that way for long, when Erik opened his eyes, he saw Firmin and Andre charging towards him, puffing all the way. A glimpse of fear came into his eyes, but when he saw that they were smiling, he relaxed and let them come.

"Erik! Oh Erik Destler! You shall sing tonight: cried Frimin happily and giving a swift pat on the back to Erik.

"It's true I've been wrong about you. Richard you were right! Erik will sing the lead!" cried Andre, almost close to tears. Erik smiled as they surrounded him and offered many congratulations. Through it all, Erik spotted Richard, next to Maestro who was clapping politely. Richard however, was livid and it looked as though he was going to burst at any second. He got pleasure in that fact, knowing that Richard had tried and failed to get him out of the Opera House. He silently thanked his Angel of Music and his father who were both in Heaven looking over him. A huge bustle of people swept him away off the stage and over to a variety of drinks, which always seemed to magically appear and never run dry, to celebrate their new leading tenor. The orchestra, what was left of it, for most of them left their seats to join in the impromptu party, struck up a merry tune of celebration. Erik smiled, full of joy for the second time in his young life, and let the songs, and congratulations sweep him away into another world.

"People! People! You know as well as I do that I love to have a party, but this one must wait until the gala tonight. Seeing as we do have a new leading tenor, he will need lots of practice for tonight, and I suggest we don't waste any time!" hollered Andre above the throng, which filled the hallways and spilled out onto the stage. They glanced at him, as a flock would their shepherd, but then mutters of agreement and disappointment sounded out through the crowd and the performers, ballet girls, and orchestra members filed out to their places and Maestro signalled for the Opera to begin.

The day passed very quickly, with Erik learning many new lines, but loving every minute of it. Mme. Giry was no less strict with him, but she seemed to get a different look in her eyes when she spoke with him or when she looked at him. They had many more private conversations with each other, Erik however, tried to avoid most of them, he still didn't like the woman very much. Carlotta was not seen for the rest of the day, but true to her word, Mme. Giry assured them all that she would perform and be at the gala, even if she did not turn up for rehearsals. It hardly seemed real to Erik, but before he knew it, the Opera House was packed full on Opening night, with distinguished people waiting for La Carlotta and Pianji to sing to them. Little did they know that Pianji would be replaced. There hadn't been enough time to change the program, so the audience didn't know that Pianji wouldn't be singing. There would have to be an announcement. And as the curtain swayed in the slight breeze, the candles before the stage flickered and a hush fell on the audience as Andre and Firmin stepped out and faced the crowd. Firmin held up his hands to signal the silence, which was already complete.

"If I may have your attention please, ladies and gentlemen. There will be a slight change in the program tonight. Senior Pianji, our original leading tenor, cannot sing tonight." A collective groan of disappointment met this announcement and many whispers among the audience erupted. Erik swallowed hard, at the audience's reaction. They certainly did not want another singer other then Senior Pianji. How would they react when they heard the news that he, a nobody was singing the lead?" This time Andre held up his hands for silence, and when none paid him any attention he cleared his throat loudly.

"Please ladies and gentlemen." He said, and the audience began to settle once more. "Senior Pianji sends his apologies that he cannot be here tonight, as he has come down with a bad case of sore throat." Erik snorted at this statement and Mme. Giry who was standing close beside him ever vigilant, gave him a sharp nudge, and he fell silent. More whispers this time filled the Opera House, but these were worried whispers. Firmin, who seemed to take notice of this fact threw a serious look to his partner.

"I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, that Senior Pianji will be well enough in a few days time. He has seen the doctor and his sore throat." Firmin said rather forcefully, "is very easy to cure." He was greeted by nods from some audience members and some relieved sighs.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen. It is with great honour, that I present to you Senior Pianji's understudy for Chalumeau's "Hannibal"." Andre made a sweep of his arm and eagerly motioned for Erik to come onstage. Erik shook his head, and backed up slowly, but Mme. Giry thrust her arm forward into his back, which pushed Erik reluctantly on to stage left. Andre grasped his upper arm firmly and dragged him in between both of them, who were smiling. Erik smiled out of nerves and looked out across the mass of people and eyes staring back at him, all judging him.

Erik wanted to run.

He wanted to run and get away from those eyes, but before he could move, Andre squeezed him tight to his chest.

"Our youngest performer, but with much promise. May I introduce to you Senior Pianji's understudy…Erik Destler!" Yelled Firmin with a huge gesture of his arm towards Erik, who was starting to panic. A polite applause greeted Erik and this statement, and Erik was ushered back to the wings in the arms of Andre and Firmin who then left him and ran off towards their box to watch the performance. _More like a disaster. _Said Erik's voice quietly. Erik was about to actually run this time, be he noticed that Mme. Giry was watching him as the music began and La Carlotta flouted onto stage, she was met with a huge applause, followed by many dancing ballet girls and began her singing. His insides squirmed painfully as his cue dawned closer and closer and he was sweating in this very uncomfortable costume, which the sewing woman were only too happy to alter for him. They said to him that Pianji used as much money as two costume's worth and therefore demanded twice the attention. Erik smiled at the memory, happily forgetting his momentary situation. It wasn't until a fat lady stagehand gave him a prod on the back, to remind him to go on. He stumbled onto stage and La Carlotta holding a severed head met his eyes. His eyes widened in shock and he almost forgot his line, but managed to quickly redeem himself and began to sing.

The performance had begun.


	15. Rachelle

**A/N: Enjoy!**

Chapter 15

The night flew by so fast, that Erik could hardly believe that it was over. It went very well, he, even at the end got a standing ovation and many flowers to celebrate his first performance. This however was told to him by the people who carried him to yet another dressing room, for the leading tenor. This was due to the fact that he had become overwhelmed at the end of his performance and needed to be carried away to recover from the excitement. He arrived in the room, quite disoriented, and with quite a headache due to the constant bustle and hum of talking throughout the wings and hallways of the Opera House. They set him down and a doctor took a quick look at him.

"There's nothing wrong with you young Sir." The doctor said kindly, "just a little too much excitement made you flush and the blood rushing from your feet to your head made you pass out. You should be fine after a little rest I believe."

"Thanks doctor." Erik replied, still weak. The doctor gave him a small smile and ushered Erik's escort reluctantly out the door. He could hear their protests from outside the door along with many others as he announced that no one should see him for a little while, but promised that he would attend the gala. The door was opened again, and Erik was very surprised to see Mme. Giry standing in the doorway. She heaved the door closed, shutting out many anxious visitors and fans. With a heavy sigh of exertion she turned around and walked over to where Erik was struggling to get up. She sat down just as Erik removed himself from his supine position

"She is pleased with you." Mme. Giry said softly, looking around his room before returning her ever-watchful gaze to his.

Who?" asked Erik confused. Mme. Giry gave a tiny twitch around her mouth, which resembled a tiny smile for the second time. Erik thought he would never really get used to it. She withdrew a rose tied with a black ribbon from the insides of her black dress, Erik wondered how on earth she didn't prick herself, and she handed it to him. Erik took it carefully and examined it before looking back up at Mme. Giry with many questions in his eyes.

"Your Angel Erik." Mme. Giry stood and Erik opened his mouth to speak, but she put a finger to her lips to make sure he was quiet. "I shall keep everyone away from your room, until you are well enough to attend the gala later tonight. Call me if you need anything. I shall hear you." She twirled and exited the room quickly, closing in quietly on the screaming crowd just outside, leaving Erik alone again. He glanced thoughtfully down at the rose again and placed it down on a side table just before the door opened again and he glanced up to see a young woman standing in the doorway framed in light.

"Erik." She said as she smiled brightly. He looked at her, dressed up for a night at the Opera in a beautiful full length red dress, with a white lily tied to her waist, to accentuate her curves, but only slightly. Her dark auburn hair fell around her shoulders, and made her honey coloured eyes stand out like stars in the night. She wore a simple hold locket around her neck and the candles in Erik's new room glinted off it. She began to walk forwards, reached his side and sat down beside him, while taking one of his hands in her own. "I've missed you so." He couldn't take his eyes off her, she was unfamiliar, but something deep within him told him that at one point he had known her. He recognised parts of her, and he threw caution to the winds.

"Rachelle?" he asked in wonder. **(A/N: Okay here is something that I DO own. Rachelle, is taking the place of Raoul, since well, Erik can't be gay…so Rachelle is MINE. Do you hear me? MINE!)** She smiled even wider and squeezed his hand.

"You do remember me Erik." She cried throwing her arms around him.

"Rachelle, is it really you? It's been…" Erik thought hard.

"14 years exactly." She continued for him. He looked at her again. Yes, there were certainly some things about her, he remembered, but after such a long time, she had grown into quite a beautiful young woman.

"You've been counting?" Erik asked and Rachelle laughed.

"How could I not count? The day we met 14 years ago was the day that my heart was stolen away." Erik pulled back from her gaze, even though she was still smiling.

"…what?" he said softly, quite surprised by her answer and her forwardness. Noting the change in him, Rachelle leaned forward so she could speak a bit softer.

"And think how happy I was that you of all people would be singing here. I was so overjoyed, I always knew you would do well in life. You had a voice that could charm the birds right out of the trees, something which you certainly proved tonight."

"Rachelle, that was 14 years ago…"Erik said, reminding her again kindly.

"Erik Destler, I have thought of no one but you since then." Erik stood up quite suddenly, which startled Rachelle and she glanced up at him. He shook his head and looked at her.

"You can't…I can't…" It was Rachelle's turn to stand up quickly, grasping both Erik's hands this time.

"Erik, listen to me." She took his chin in her hands and turned his face towards hers. "I love you." There was a momentary silence between the two of them, when the noise from outside was the only dialogue that could be heard. Erik removed her hands from his face and looked at her for a long time.

"We were only kids…" he said sadly.

"Is that all you can say?" she asked almost furious. Erik glanced around and pulled her arm so that they both knelt on the ground.

"Rachelle." He said with happiness, swelling within him. He lowered her voice to that she leaned forward and they were almost touching lips. Her eyes were filled with confusion and concern. "No one has cared about me like that before. However, I must insist that we take this no further."

"Why Erik?"

"My Angel of Music is coming to visit me tonight."

"That old legend that your father used to tell us?"

"Yes."

"Erik, that's just a story."

"No it's not Rachelle. She's spoken to me before, she's been in my dreams and sang to me. I can't deny her this. My father would have wanted me to learn from her." Rachelle nodded, clearly not believing Erik at all, as a new idea came into her head.

"Listen get changed. We'll go out to diner before the gala and then make a grand entrance. I know you have many new adoring fans that would love to see you there." She stood up now excited. Erik's heart sank, he did return her feelings, but only wished that she had listened to him. They had known each other for a few years, then after his father died, he withdrew from any human contact and lived only in the orphanage. His father, never really having enough money to support them, travelled around with him and they either played duets on the violin in order to get money or his father played and Erik sang. Erik's father was too proud to beg for money. He looked back up at Rachelle who had, by this time, made her way to the door and was just about to open the door again.

"Rachelle, no wait! We can't go, the Angel of Music is very strict." Erik said to her back, and she threw her gaze over her shoulder with a playful look in her eye.

"Two minutes Erik." And with that last word she heaved open the door and disappeared into the mass of people, pushing to get in. He sighed heavily, why hadn't she listened? He couldn't go, not with his Angel of Music coming to visit him. He slumped back down onto the chair, completely forgetting that his fingers and his head were throbbing and he felt like throwing up. He glanced down at the rose, which lay on the table and then looked up to the door. What was he supposed to do? He thought angrily, and for once in his life, Erik's little voice was dead silent. He wrung his hands nervously, debating his options.

Option number one: He could go with Rachelle to dinner and then the gala and forget about his Angel of Music. She didn't say exactly when she was coming, Erik just figured that it would be after his great triumph. She would want to congratulate him, and correct him on the things he did wrong.

Option number two: He could stay here, forget about Rachelle, and wait for his Angel. He had seen her, he knew that she wouldn't want him to miss their first meeting, and neither would his father. Curiosity begged him to stay as well as reason, he and Rachelle had been so long ago, he was just chasing false hope. He should stay here.

Erik sighed deeply and it was many moments of muted shouts from outside before he stood. Erik had made his decision. Forgetting the rose on the table, he made his way over to the screen and changed out of his costume and into a nice, clean, black diner suit. He brushed his untidy hair and was all ready to reach the door and leave. He laid his hand on the doorknob and all of a sudden, the noise outside his door was quiet and all the candles in his room blew out in one smooth and fast sweep of wind. He heard a soft click just outside the door and fearfully, Erik pushed hard against it, but found to his utter horror that it had been locked from the outside. He banged on the door, and hoped that someone would hear him, but all was quiet. He turned about and faced his foreign, dark dressing room. The odd gust of wind had not left his room, instead it caressed his face and slipped around his body, trying to almost coax him into the middle of the room. He took a few steps forward and examined the room even more closely in the dark, even though he could hardly see. He was trembling in fear, and it was threatening to consume him and make him go insane. He struggled to maintain hold of himself, knowing that if he lost it, there would be no hope for him to get out of here. His eyes frantically swept the room until he heard a soft melody playing from within the walls. He listened intently to the angelic music, which was beginning to get louder and louder as the time past. He glanced towards the door, but quickly realised that the music wasn't coming from there, it was coming from somewhere else in the room. He put his ear up against wall, and followed the music, which eventually led him to be pressing up against the mirror in his room. He took a step back and examined it. It was a full-length mirror, which reflected his pale, sweaty, scared face. It was lavishly carved around the frame and held an inscription on the top, but in a language that Erik did not understand. As he waited in the dark, listening to this unearthly music, someone began to sing. The sweet sound filled Erik's ears and made him relax quite quickly, due to the fact he should be terrified still. He took a few steps back from the mirror and focused his eyes in the middle of the smooth glass as a smile came to his lips. He would know the tone, and the sound of that voice anywhere. It was his Angel of Music.

And she was here.

**A/N: Hope you liked this one, R&R, plus sorry about the cliff hanger, I just love 'em!**


	16. Past, Present, and Future

Chapter 16

Erik's fingers curled into a nervous ball and he closed his eyes to listen only to the music. He could also hear faint footsteps, but that couldn't be his Angel, Angel's floated didn't they? A soft seductive voice floated around his room, and like the wind, it wound its way through his ears and around his body, making it tingle.

"_Insolent girl, this slave of fashion, basking if **your** glory! Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, sharing in **my** triumph!"_ Erik's eyes flew open at the sound of his Angel, yes he knew it was her, and he dropped his defences. He was now utterly glad he stayed. Rachelle was his past, his Angel was his future. He stayed rooted to the spot as the gentle flow of her song washed over him and playfully toyed with him. She had the voice of an Angel, but then all Angels did. However, she sounded a little angry at Rachelle, saying that she was taking something away from him and his Angel. He knew deep down in his heart that his Angel was right. Rachelle didn't matter, and couldn't only hold him back. He opened his mouth and out of it came his voice, which sounded only the best when he sang with his Angel.

"Angel I hear you speak, I listen. Stay by my side, guide me!" He looked around the room, and his words rang true. He wanted her to guide him, to be with him. He wanted her to know that he would always listen to her and do as she commanded whatever the cost. He lowered his eyes, knowing that she could see him, and wanted to be respectful. "Angel my soul was weak, forgive me. Enter at last master!" He finished and was afraid that she would go away, thinking that he was lying. Had she heard what Erik told Rachelle, that he loved her, and that she loved him? He trembled again, praying that the Angel would believe him and not leave him alone. His father would be furious if that happened and Erik desperately longed to see and learn from the Angel of Music. His fears were beginning to rise quickly, but as soon as they came they disappeared because he could softly hear his Angel replying to him.

"_Flattering child you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide. Look at your face in the mirror. I am there inside!" _The voice grew and grew and on the last note is swelled to a great crescendo, forcing Erik to look in the direction of the voice and found himself staring at the mirror. He saw himself, looking scared and yet intrigued. He struggled to see past the mist that was slowly making it's way around the room and after a few moments he could distinguish a small shape in the shadows. He peered long and hard at it from this distance he couldn't tell weather it was a man or woman. He moved towards it slowly, and when is didn't back away, he moved forward even more. As he came closer the light seemed to increase from some unknown source, which threw light onto the creature standing I the mirror. But how could someone stand in a mirro? Erik thought with amazed eyes wandering over the creature. _It's your Angel, she can do anything. _Erik voice spoke up after being silent for so long. Of course. Erik's Angel. She could do anything. And as if one cue his Angel began to sing, coaxing him to come to her. "_I am your Angel of Music. Come to me Angel of Music." _Erik found it so very hard to resist and he quickened his pace to the mirror, which held his Angel there. He had no more doubts, or second guesses. This was his Angel and she was hear to teach him. He reached the mirror, which slid open to reveal the woman he met in his dream so long ago, she still wore the same white dress, and she still hid her face in the shadows. She held out her hand for his, and he took it without hesitation, and their fingers entwined together. A sudden banging on the door startled Erik briefly, and he glanced behind, but the tug of his Angel lured him back into a trance and he forgot everything once more.

"Who's is that voice? Who is that in there?" Rachelle's words rang out feebily from behind the door. Erik stooped for only a moment as if the words had brough him back from his unreal world, but his Angel whispered in his ear.

"_I am your Angel of Music…come to me angel of Music."_ Her soothing voice made Erik turn back towards her, and she led him off by the hand, and he sunk into her world as the mirror started to close behind them.

"Erik! Angel!" Rachelle's howling, desperate cried were cut off as the mirror finished its closing journey, and Erik and his Angel disappeared.

Rachelle shoved hard against the door, but to no avail. She had heard Erik's voice and another woman's as well. She realised that pushing on the door was going to do nothing, and she glanced around the emptying hallway. Many were spectators who were murmuring angrily that they hadn't seen Erik. She spotted Mme. Giry, who had been introduced that night as the ballet teacher and Rachelle, knew that Mme. Giry would know what to do about Erik. She left the dressing room door and hurried over to where Mme. Giry stood, ushering people out into the main lobby for the beginning of the gala, which was going to last well into the night. Rachelle was sweating lightly, something which was very unladylike, but as the moment, she didn't much care, her only thoughts were turned to Erik and helping him.

"Excuse me Mme." said Rachelle is her sweetest and calmest voice as the two woman shook hands. "I am…" Began Rachelle, but Mme. Giry interrupted her.

"I know who you are Countess Rachelle de Chagney." Rachelle stared with a wild surprised look.

"How…well…it doesn't really matter how you know…" Rachelle, wasn't well known herself, but her older sister Pauline was very well known, as she was entitled to the Chagney's huge estate as soon as their father died. He had died a few years before, and so all her life Rachelle's sister had been going everywhere with their father learning how to upkeep the estate, and learn other business things. Pauline was married, but their marriage was arranged by their father, it was only natural in Paris, that a woman was supposed to be married and couldn't do anything by herself. Their father had taught her well, however, and Pauline only had a husband to keep up appearances. Rachelle knew quite well, that they were both very active in up keeping with the estate, and they were very happy together, despite the arranged marriage. Pauline ofen teased Rachelle that she hadn't got married yet, and with each passing year, her dowry of the estate got smaller and smaller. Rachelle smiled at the memory, she and her sister spent a great deal of time together, travelling around Pairs. It had been 14 years ago, that he, Pauline, and their father (their mother stayed back home at the estate because he was too sick that year to travel) journeyed to a small lake, a private one of the Chagney's They spent many summers there, laughing and playing in their childhood years. Even Pauline, who was wise and acted well beyond her young years, could be free at the small private lake at their summer home by the lake. That was where she had met Erik.

Erik and his father had been found in the bushes by Rachelle and Pauline who were walking and exploring through the woods. The two men had been sleeping, and Rachelle had been too scared to wake them up, but Pauline, ever the older sister, nudged them, and as they began to stir, Pauline grabbed some thick stalks from the trees surrounding them and lashed their arms and feet together. Rachelle had protested the whole time, and Pauline eventually, fed up with her, told her to go back to the house and tell father. Rachelle had hurried off, scared what Pauline might do to them, even though she had a kind heart. She reached the steps of the grand cabin and yelled to herfather that they had found a couple of people in their woods. Her father had told her sternly to wait in the house, while he went to see them, but Rachelle said he wouldn't know where to go, and he consented quickly, and reluctantly. The two of them made their way out of the house, and Rachelle led them to where she had left Pauline and the two men tied up. Rachelle's father had congratulated Pauline for tying up the trespassers and Rachelle gaped in surprise, she could not believe it. She could not believe that her father would do that to anyone.

"Father, they look poor, the least we could do it untie them and let them sleep one night in our house and give them some food." The little Rachelle had pleaded as she saw the two men lying helpless down on the floor. Her father looked down and little Rachelle and ruffled her hair affectionately. He knelt down to eye level and looked at his youngest daughter.

"Ma petite chere." He said, "You're too soft hearted…"

"But you were going to kill them!" she yelled, and her father's smile widened and he pulled her close to him into a hug.

"No dear, I wasn't going to kill them. I will turn them into the proper authorities because they broke the law." Rachelle glanced back down at the small boy and shook her head.

"You can't father. He's so young, let me take care of them here, and then they'll be on their way." Her father regarded her carefully.

"You would help these complete strangers?" she nodded vigorously, and he gave her a small smile. "Alright then. Help me untie them and we'll get them into the house." Rachelle set into it right away and from that moment on, Erik and Rachelle had been inseparable all summer long. After her father noticed how strongly Rachelle had taken to little Erik, he allowed them to stay longer with them. Erik sang and his father played for them in exchange for food and shelter. It had been the happiest time of Rachelle's life not only because she enjoyed the beautiful music and wonderful company, but because she met Erik.

And now after 14 years later, he was gone again.

"Please Mme. I need to get into Erik's dressing room, I think he may be in trouble." Mme. Giry gave her a hard stare and shook her head.

"I'm afraid I can't do that Mademoiselle Rachelle."

"Why not? I order you to give me the key!" she demanded, but Mme. Giry only shook her head again as a couple of more people passed by her, jostling them.

"I already told you I can't. I don't have the key. Erik has the only key."

"That's a lie! He never had the chance to get the key from you." Rachelle accused her directly. "When I wasn't with him, he was with the good doctor."

"How dare you tell me I lie. You may be of greater stature then I, but I must remind you Mademoiselle Rachelle that in the Opera House I am Queen. For your peace of mind, I was with Erik tonight, I had a gift to deliver to him from an admirer. I was there a few moments, and also handed him the key." Mme. Giry leaned forward and Rachelle actually felt a little frightened of her. "So you see, Mademoiselle, the only way that Erik had someone in there was because he _wanted_ someone to be in there. And that would be his privacy." Mme. Giry gave a curt nod and tuned on her heel leaving the stunned Rachelle in her wake. She was in shock, She had told Erk that she loved him, and this was how he responded? He did say that they could take it no further, was this why? Rachelle wouldn't believe it, Erik could never, would never to that to her. If this was the case, then Erik was in danger…

Erik had been kidnapped.

**A/N: Ok, I didn't really care for this chapter too much, it was a little hard to write. Tell me what you think. R&R.**


	17. Mysteries He Never Knew

**A/N: I think I must have to explain myself, the reason for the odd last chapter was, I thought I needed to retell how Erik and Rachelle met. I know you guys wanted to see more of the Phantomess and Erik…and well don't worry my readers, they shall happen soon. Okay, it's the chapter you've all been waiting for…read on faithful readers…read on!**

Chapter 17

It took a while before Erik's eyes became accustomed to the soft flicker of the candles, after the complete darkness of his dressing room. The only thing that was reassuring him, was the soft grasp of the cool white glove that held his own. With his Angel here, there was nothing to be afraid of, she would take care of him. His trance was becoming more and more hard to stay out of, but he surrendered to it completely. He kept his eyes solely on his Angel, who was facing away from him, leading him down a corridor that was lined with human hands holding torches. They were beautifully carved out of some sort of stone, but Erik did not pay much attention to those or the stone floor and walls of the corridor. He only saw the white silhouette of his Angel who kept her head turned away from him. He had to see her face, now that he was so close, and now that he knew she would not leave him. He began to sing, it was the only interest that she had in him, and he had in her.

"In sleep she sang to me,

In dreams she came.

That voice, which calls to me,

And speaks my name…" As if on cue the Angel turned around smiling, but Erik gaped. Half of her face was covered by a gleaming, white porcelain mask but both her eyes were not covered and they gazed at him with dark intense eyes that looked nothing like Heaven. He was jolted out of the trance by the oddity of her face and he stopped where he was. Why did she cover her face, Angel's were beautiful, why should she hide her face? Her smiled faded a little as she saw his reaction, but she squeezed his hand gently and spoke one word.

"_Erik." _His eyes refocused once more on this mysterious creature and he succumbed blindly to the trance again. However, a thought occurred to him, the white mask meant something, as he racked his brains trying to figure out what, a piece of memory floated into his mind. She was the Opera Ghostess. She was the Phantomess of the Opera. The mask said it all. He sang again in a trance.

"…The Phantomess of the Opera is here,

Inside my mind." She smiled softly again and turned back away from him, leading him deeper and deeper into this strange place below the Opera House. The air was getting cooler, they were descending into the earth, not to heaven, to hell. Had he been tricked? Before he could chase anymore thoughts around his mind, The Phantomess' voice rang throughout the corridor and filled his ears, making him cower in terror and amazement. The passion coming forth from her small body was inconceivable.

"_Sing once again with me,_

_Our strange duet._

_My power over you,_

_Grows stronger yet…" _Her voice was truly Angelic, she had to be his Angel, but he knew that she was the monster that Greg and Sampson had spoke about. The Angel in Hell. The trance he was in began to waver and he glanced behind him to see the mirror disappear around a corner. He was getting himself into something, which was much bigger then he. He felt a gloved hand surround his chin and pull his face back towards the front. The woman's strange eyes never left his, they held a depth to them and Erik could sense much pain in her past.

"…_And though you turn from me,_

_To glance behind…" _She sang to him and he followed her even deeper into the depths of the Opera House.

"_The Phantomess of the Opera is there,_

_Inside your mind." _His gaze after this never left her, even as she turned back to where they were going. Her power over him was indeed getting stronger, this time, he couldn't break his trance that settled over him, nor did he want to.

They travelled the Opera House underground for what felt like ages, however, Erik did not mind in the slightest, any time he could spend with his mysterious Angel was a wonderful thing. Nothing but their strange duet entered into his thoughts, and nothing but her gorgeous features, almost otherworldly, entered his eyes. He dared not blink, unless she disappear into the shadows, but with his hand grasped firmly in her own, Erik thought that it was quite unlikely. They had long since passed the corridors, which held the human iron hands holding the torches, but the Phantomess managed to grab one, and it was this torch that was lighting their path. The small patch of light did little to fight back the gloominess of the dark, so Erik could not see anything but the Phantomess. He wasn't entirely sure of weather or not he did want to see anything else, however, if he had the chance, he wouldn't know the way back.

"Those who have seen your face…" Erik risked a glance at her face just as she turned to look at him as he sung. The flickering of the torchlight gleamed off her white mask as she looked at him with an almost proud look on her features.

"…draw back in fear…" Her expression hardened quickly, and she scrutinised his face closely, trying to gage weather or not he shared everyone else's opinion of her face. Luckily, all his practice of maintaining a motionless face under Mme. Giry served him well, and he held an unreadable look. Her gaze was angry now and he thought he had better do something to redeem himself. He looked deep into those beautiful, dark, inquisitive, passionate eyes and continued.

"…I am the mask you wear…." She turned back and looked out into the darkness that she seemed to know so well. Erik breathed a silent sigh of relief as her attention was diverted from him. If he had a choice, he would choose Mme. Giry over the Ghostess. She was far more dangerous then Mme. Giry could ever be. Mme. Giry knew your thoughts, but the Phantomess knew your soul. Suddenly out of nowhere her voice rang out quite clearly, but with overwhelming emotion.

"_It's me they hear…" _Erik was taken aback at the soul pouring out from this woman, who barely knew him, through her song. _A great artist._ He thought with new admiration for this mysterious and misunderstood Phantomess. Together they plunged down, the air getting colder and colder with every step they took. Together they also sang; their strange duet, she had called it.

"Your spirit and my voice…

_"My spirit and your voice…"_

"…in one combined…"

_"…in one combined…"_ Their voices blended together like Erik had never heard before. It was true he had never been able to sing a duet before, but the ones he heard would have paled in comparison to this one he was singing now. His mind and soul flew free here, he felt safe with her, even though his dream and the stories he had heard should have told him otherwise. He knew the reason he felt safe, secure, able to sing the best he had ever done before.

"The Phantomess of the Opera is here…." Erik sang it softly this time, realising for the first time what it meant, and almost wishing it now, was untrue. The Phantomess' harmony overlapped him as she sang along with him.

_"…inside your mind."_ She finished for him, turning back to glance at him. Erik stared in wonder at her as he could hear the distant lapping off water against shore. He struggled to look deeper into the impenetrable blackness, but could see nothing. She turned back, almost satisfied with him and continued on, all the while the water sounds were getting louder, but this time as they drew nearer, Erik could hear wood creaking. He glanced up in horror, thinking that the roof –that is to say the floor of the Opera House- was going to collapse and trap him here in this place. His fears were put to rest, when he felt no rocks or timber crashing around him and he was startled and turned as the Ghostess began to sing.

"_In all your fantasies,_

_You always knew._

_That woman and mystery…" _She paused in her singing and without even waiting for a nod, Erik filled the gap of music with his own surreal voice.

"Were both in you." By this point, Erik had completely lost track of time and direction, it all seemed to be one blur of music, darkness and this mysterious Phantomess.

They reached the edge of a lake, and Erik found out the source of the creaking was in fact a small boat that was tied to a make shift dock. It looked very unsteady to him, but the Phantomess continued on, and so he had to follow. The both reached the boat and as she caught his eyes they began to sing together once more.

"And in this labyrinth…

"_And in this labyrinth…"_

"…where night is blind…"

"…_where night is blind…"_ The Phantomess led Erik into the boat and made sure that he was sitting as comfortable as one could in a boat this size. Erik left her gaze and looked out across the lake and saw soft flickering in the water. He puzzled over it for a moment and looked back behind him to see where the Phantomess was. She was over by the wall, attacking the torch to the wall and make her way steadily back towards the baot. He watched her move with an angelic like grace and was captivated by her al over again, nothing it seemed, ceased to amaze him. She climbed into the boat behind him and cast off from the dock, the boat swaying slightly, but she held her balance. Erik eyed the blackness that was blind and grabbed hold of the side of the boat so as to not lose his own balance and looked up and the white form of the Ghostess. She looked down at him and pulled an oar seemingly out of nowhere and began to paddle, her eyes never leaving his. Together for the last time, they opened their mouths and let loose the final crescendo of their duet.

"The Phantomess of the Opera is here…"

"_The Phantomess of the Opera is there…"_

"…inside my mind."

"…_inside your mind." _Erik sang this last sentence with more conviction and forgot about his fears and doubts. She rowed the boat through the black waters, and Erik leaned over, curious, as they came closer to the orange and yellow lights in the water. He was careful not to touch the water, afraid that somehow they would drag him into their depths and he would never return. He leaned back in surprise as the water began to churn and boil and his eyes widened in complete amazement as a candelabra rose silently out of the water, as if it had been waiting for him. He looked around and saw more and more of these candelabras rising like orange and yellow spectres out of the dark waters and as the room began to grow lighter and lighter, he was able to see farther and farther.

"_Sing my Angel of Music…sing for me." _The Phantomess commanded, and he obeyed with his whole heart and soul. Erik sang like he never sang before, his voice vocalising in a trance as the mysterious magic surrounded him, and he gave in willingly. His song grew more and more intense and Erik forgot where he was, only music coursed through him, relieving him of any other feeling, thought or speech.

This was the reason why Erik didn't notice that they had arrived at the Phantomess' lair.

**A/N: Not so sure about this chapter. I had a bit trouble writing it. In the end though, I did like it. Just took me while to get over my writers block, I hope you liked it, stay tuned for more! Thanks to all my reviewers, I am happy to see you are also telling me what is wrong with my writing. I will take all your suggestions into consideration. R&R!**


	18. Music of the Night

Chapter 18

The boat slowed to a steady stop and brushed up against the edge of another bank. Erik's voice reverberated around all the wet, slimy walls of the cave. The soft glow of candlelight made the water easier to see, but no less dangerous. Erik's may have stopped singing, but his mouth did not close, it hung open in wonder. It wasn't until he felt the boat rock again, and he hung on to the edge of it just like before to steady himself, did he throw a cautious look behind him. He saw a great iron gate beginning to close noiselessly, in fact he wasn't even aware that they had passed under one. He looked around for the Phantomess, but she wasn't behind him anymore so he faced the front of the boat and saw her standing serenely by the water's edge. She looked him in the eyes and offered him her hand to get out of the boat. He looked down at the gloved, white hand once more and took it again willingly and trustingly. She helped him to stand and cross over the threshold of the boat, thankful that his feet touched down on firm, dry, land. She began to walk away from him, looking around her lair thoughtfully.

"_I have brought you,_

_To the seat of sweet music's throne._

_To a Kingdom where all must pay homage to music,_

_Music…"_ The Phantomess sang softly in his ear seductively drawing him closer towards her. He obeyed without question; he only hungered for her voice and for her to sing to him. It sent chills down his spine, her voice was unlike anything he had ever heard before. At times it could be passionate, furious, or gentle and he marvelled at her again.

"_You have come here,_

_For one purpose, and one alone…"_ She had reached a great black organ with iron pipes that extended far above her lair. She glanced down at a pile of music sheets and then turned around to face Erik. Her face was filled with longing, and he fought the overwhelming urge to comfort her, to hold her until she felt her longing returned.

"_…Since the moment I first heard you sing,_

_I have needed you with me,_

_To serve me, to sing,_

_For my music,_

_My music…" _Her voice had fallen, but her eyes held his gaze, as her voice trailed off into nothing leaving the grand cave silent except for the occasional dripping of water and the flickering of candles. The Phantomess stepped slowly away from the organ and over back to where she had left Erik standing and offered her hand a third time. Erik was so deep under her power that he placed his hand in hers before giving it a second thought. Her eyes sparkled with some inner glow and she allowed her face to twist into a small smile, which Erik returned, elated that he had done something to make this woman smile. She led Erik away from the black water and slowly towards the organ.

"_Night-time sharpens,_

_Heightens each sensation._

_Darkness stirs and,_

_Wakes imagination._

_Silently the senses,_

_Abandon their defences." _ Her voice overwhelmed Erik and her hypnotic stare only increased his interest and longing for her. Simply and plainly, he was hers. They stopped by the organ and bathed in a pool of candlelight the Phantomess released his hand and circled him to stand behind Erik. Placing her hands on Erik's chest she caressed him and moved her head so close to his ear that Erik could feel her breath. His whole body tingled at her touch.

"_Slowly, gently, _

_Night unfurls its splendour._

_Grasp it, sense it,_

_Tremulous, and tender…" _The Phantomess' hands wound their way up past his neck and cupped his face as she came to stand beside him. She turned his face towards her and their faces were just inches apart. They breathed together as one.

"_…turn your face away,_

_From the garish light of day._

_Turn your thoughts away,_

_From cold unfeeling light." _She leaned in closer to put her mouth right next to his ear and she sang soothingly.

"_And listen to,_

_The Music of the Night."_ She drew away, her deep, dark eyes filled with emotion far beyond what Erik could even comprehend. Erik was filled with her voice and her music, something, which was indescribable. He had never felt like this before, it was a terrifying and thrilling experience all at once. As if the Phantomess could sense what he was feeling, her eyes softened, which made her looked even more exquisite in the soft light of candles. She took his hand and drew him along with him, motioning to each side as Erik gazed in horror and wonder at the place in which he was now. There were stacks and stacks of music piled up in every corner, threatening half heartedly to tip over at any second. The red velvet drapes covered almost every inch of the lair, giving it a dark feeling and yet made Erik feel like he was in an expensive hotel. Not that he had ever been to one before. Is this what the Phantomess wanted? To escape from her current reality? He looked around more as the Phantomess led him around the cave. Candles were everywhere, just like the drapes and the music. The dusty organ loomed in the centre atop a few stairs, and this is where the Phantomess ran, after she let go of his hand. She whirled around the organ like a wild animal and slowed down to look at Erik straight in the eyes. She composed herself and her mouth opened to reveal more unearthly sound.

"_Close your eyes,_

_And surrender,_

_To your darkest dreams…" _Erik closed his eyes as commanded, not worried in the slightest of what she was doing. He was completely in a state of bliss, which he never wanted to end. He would gladly stay like this forever listening to the golden voice of the mysterious woman who had brought him here.

"…_Purge your thoughts  
of the life you knew before!_

_Close your eyes,_

_Let your spirit start to soar!" _Erik's soul did soar as the Phantomess sang a startlingly high clear note, which rang out to fill the small cavern. His mind went black, and the sound wound its way through his ears and down to his soul. He had never heard or experienced anything like this before in his whole life. With his eyes closed, he stood in the Phantomess' lair straining to hear the sound that was dying out far too quickly. He opened his eyes to see her standing in a soothing pool of light looking down at Erik as if for the first time.

"_And you'll live,_

_As you've never lived before." _She made her way from the organ and took his hand, which he did not refuse; in fact he took it again almost eagerly, hoping to be witness to more of her singing. She led him, showing him more of her lair as they walked. He saw a miniature model of the Opera House, complete with a stage and even a chandelier. He also spotted a smaller version of himself and one of La Carlotta and Senior Pianji, but he was the only one in the limelight. He turned with confusion in his eyes back towards the Phantomess, but she paid his look no heed.

"_Softly, deftly,  
music shall surround you.  
Feel it, hear it,_

_Closing in around you . . ."_ By this time she had run her gloved hand over his arm and it had made its way to his face, and he found with surprise that he was gladly seeking her touch. She smiled at him and returned it with ease. She left his side, releasing his hand and spread her own arms wide, showing how proud she was of her lair. Her voice swelled to a crescendo as she sang.

"_Open up your mind,  
let your fantasies unwind._

In this darkness, which 

_You know you cannot fight…" _She returned her sweeping gaze to his and sang softly again, causing Erik to lean forward in order to hear her.

"_…The darkness of,_

_The Music of the Night." _She moved back towards him and grasped his hand firmly. He found that he really no longer cared, even though she was touching him, He was craving her to actually hold him as she did before. Her voice and the song were both equally seductive, Erik however, had trouble concentrating on anything but her and her music: Her Music of the Night.

_"Let your mind  
start a journey through a  
strange new world!  
Leave all thoughts  
of the world  
you knew before!" _ Erik knew that those thoughts were already long forgotten. The Phantomess' voice grew louder as she sang, preparing for one final ending, but getting no less melodious or angelic.  
_"Let your soul  
Take you where you  
long to be!"_ The only place he wanted him or his soul to be was right here with her. Her voice filled him as she sang out strong and clear in the last crescendo, and she gazed into his eyes, willing him to let his soul be free with her music. Her voice fell softly, and he watched her with fascination.  
"_Only then  
can you belong  
to me . . ."_ They had crossed most of the lair, by this time and had come to a space just between two heavy, red, velvet curtains, where they stopped again, and she turned her face towards his and moved closer.  
_"Floating, falling,  
sweet intoxication!  
Touch me, trust me  
savour each sensation!"_ Erik obeyed, their bodies moving as one as she sang to him, in the mixed bask of candlelight and darkness. A place with magic, where time stood still and nothing was, as it seemed. Erik was completely lost in the wonder and mystery of it all. She caressed him and he returned her movements, reaching his hands up towards her face and her mask. He sensed some hesitation by her as his hands made their way closer, but she relaxed quickly, giving him a small smile. They parted, which left Erik breathless and craving more of the sweet, dark mysteries, which she seemed to arouse in him when she touched or held him.  
_"Let the dream begin,  
let your darker side give in  
to the power of the music that I write -  
the power of the music of the night . . ."_ her voice surrounded him until there was nothing except him, her and the music, which began to fade softly in the cave. She reached behind her and pulled back the curtains to reveal something, which Erik could not see. She stepped aside and Erik saw a life-sized doll of himself, dressed in evening wear. He stared at it for a moment or two and then felt his mind reel and he fell heavily against the Phantomess, unconscious. She lifted him carefully up and carried him over towards some more curtains, black lace this time, however, no less delicate or finely woven. She placed Erik down in the bed lined with red silk, behind those curtains and watched him sleep for a few moments, utter bliss on her face. She seemed to come out of her revere and pulled on a thick chord, which began to close the curtains, sealing Erik off from the Phantomess. As she watched Erik disappear behind them, she softly sang a last line to him.

"_You alone, can make my song take flight,_

_Help me make the Music of the Night." _

**A/N: Hoped you liked this chapter! I had a tiny bit of a time trying to write it, but I'm glad it turned out all right. Review and tell me what you think!**


	19. Behind the Mask

Chapter 19

Haunting music filled his dreams along with images of her and only her. It seemed forever until Erik opened his eyes slowly, confused to as where he was. He was still in his dinner clothes from the day before, but for the life of him, he could not figure out why. His body stiffened as he tried to sit up, but at last he managed, curious to discover what happened last night. He could recall only a few things. As his mind struggled to think through the early morning fog, which surrounded all that have just woken from slumber, Erik could hear a distant melody. He turned his head to see black lace draped hanging all around him, as if protecting him from the whole world. He hoped he was still in the Opera House. A tiny wooden table, stood beside the very comfortable, silk bed, in which Erik sat, and a small music box stood on top of it. It was closed, but there was a brass monkey in Persian robes sitting on its lid, holding cymbals in each hand. The money had a sickening grin plastered on its face as it banged together the cymbals in some kind of a weird dance. The music coming forth was pretty and Erik hummed along with it while grasping a rope in order to lift the curtains and explore this new world.

Erik stepped away from the bed and the music box and left through the only entrance there was. As soon as he left the room, the music from the monkey box stopped suddenly, and Erik was startled by the sudden silence. He glanced back to the bed, but then continued one, Erik's curiosity always won out in the end.

As he came to the top of a flight of stairs, Erik stared down in wonder at the scene before him, and the memories came flooding back. He glanced around at the thousands of flickering candles, the dark water of the lake, and the stony ground, which he was standing on. He began to sing in wonder.

"I remember there was mist…" Erik glanced at the mist, which never seemed to end or stop its strange dance. It was thick and it coated the ground, making it impossible to see where he stepped, like some mysterious snow in the winter.

"…Swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake..." Erik's attention was drawn away from the mist only to catch sight of the dark waters, silent now, in between gaps of the mist. He shuddered to think what was beneath them, things he couldn't even imagine.

"…There were candles all around…" In the lake he saw the many thousands of candles reflected in the waters, which returned his gaze to the cave where the walls seemed to move in time with the flickering lights.

"…And on the lake there was a boat…" His gaze fell to where a boat lay half out of the water, like some poor animal that swam too close and got caught on the beach, unable to return to the water.

"…And in the boat, there was a woman…" Erik slowly turned his head towards the organ, afraid and excited that since all his other observations had proved true, this one would too. His eyes met with the back of a head, covered with thick, waist length, black hair and at that moment as if the person sitting at the organ could hear his quiet singing, she turned around.

It was the Opera Ghostess. The Phantomess.

She allowed him a small smile, to acknowledge to him, that she knew of his presence and returned her masked face to her occupation. His eyes focused on her, now he could remember. She had brought him here…

_To the seat of sweet Music's throne._

Erik began the decent down the stairs and jumped a little bit as she pounded hard on the keys. A strong surge of music rang through the cave, making some of the walls crumble and fall with a splash into the water. He fought the urge to run, and approached the bench where the Phantomess sat banging on the keys and stopping at strange intervals, in order to write something down onto a blank sheet of music. He approached it quietly and saw the Phantomess' back stiffen considerably, but she did not stop her playing. With an overwhelming sense of curiosity surging through him, Erik stood just behind the Phantomess and began to sing again, more to himself then to her.

"Who was that shape in the shadows?

Whose is the face in the mask?" He placed his hands on her neck and gently caressing it, made his hands move up towards her delicate features on her face. He could feel her responding to his touch, and her hands left the keys and hung limply at her side. She half turned towards him as he ran his hands over her face closer and closer towards the mask. He could feel her body relax and let him touch her. He took in a deep breath and gave a sharp tug and the mask pulled away easily. He leaned forward eagerly to see the front of her face, but it was too late.

She leaped up in fury, knocking him backward in her haste to stand up, sending the mask out of his reach an over beneath a music stand. Pain shot through his body, as it made contact with the rough stone of the floor. She screamed in horror and terror and covered her face with her hands before he could see beneath.

"_DAMN YOU!"_ she screamed in fury, and ran away from the bench of the organ and over towards a wall of red velvet drapes. Erik cowered on the floor, and struggled to move away from her. He crawled backwards, trying to not attract her attention, but not a second later she shrieked out again.

"_You little prying Pandora!_

_You little demon…" _With one hand clutching her face, she tore at one of the curtains away from the wall and it collapsed into a heap of mist, dust and fabric to reveal a full length mirror, just like the one in his new room. She stared at herself in the mirror transfixed by her own image as she removed her hand from the right side of her face, but when she spotted Erik in the mirror she covered it quick as a flash and spun around, her eyes flaming in anger.

"…_Is this what you wanted to see?" _He shrank away from her, scared to death that her attention was refocused on him and he crawled even further away into the shadows. This only seemed to anger her further, something, which Erik had feared, and she sprang towards him fiercely hollering.

"_CURSE YOU! _

_You little _lying Delilah!

_You little Viper!" _She moved closer and closer, all the while he was backing away and he hit something with the back of his head, as he was moving. It was smooth, and made of some kind of metal. He dared not take his eyes off her, lest she did something awful to him. She lowered her voice and glared at him, and he froze in place, as there was a moment of horrid silence between them where they locked eyes.

"_Now…you cannot ever be free!" _Erik was scared to death by this time. He couldn't possibly imagine how she could be so sweet and passionate before and now how angry and furious she was. He trembled in his skin and shut his eyes, so as to keep back the tears of fright. With his eyes closed, he could hear her frantic panting and her heavy footsteps storm in a rage around her lair. He could hear sheets of music being thrown to the ground and candle stands clanging loudly as they hit the floor. He squeezed his eyes tighter as she threw her hands down on the keys of the organ, making a horrible sound issue forth and making the cave shudder.

"_DAMN YOU!_

_CURSE YOU!" _She screamed to Erik and he could hear her footsteps coming closer towards him. He shrunk away in fear, with his eyes shut tight against her angry image. He waited for the anger that he knew would come, the horrible things that she could do to him, as she approached him. He waited, holding his breath, and then the footsteps stopped.

The blow didn't come.

Erik opened one eye carefully and a surprise sight came to his young eyes. He saw his Angel, the Phantomess of the Opera standing just before him staring sadly down at him. Erik opened his other eye, and a change seemed to overtake her very quickly. Her eyes lost their hardened edge and looked at him through completely different eyes from before. She spread her arms before her, gesturing to Erik, but he stayed exactly where he was, in fear that she would yell again. He reached his hand behind him and felt a smooth touch under his fingers, he glanced back quickly and saw that he was underneath the music stand and his hand covered the Phantomess' white mask. He shivered as he saw himself touching it and he picked it up in his hand and he turned back towards her. She still had that same odd look in her eyes, and she still had her arm outspread towards him, but she began to circle him, as a predator would its prey.

"_Stranger then you dreamt it-_

_Can you even dare to look or dare to think of me?" _One hand covered her unmasked face and she glanced down at herself and when she looked back up at Erik, he could see self-hatred in her eyes. She shuddered and drew in a deep breath before continuing her chant like song.

"_This loathsome gargoyle,_

_Who burns in hell, but secretly…_

_Yearns for Heaven,_

_Secretly…secretly…" _Her voice cut off on a serious soft note and Erik regarded her carefully, her attention focused solely on him. His head twisted around as she continued her circle around him and he pressed up harder against the music stand clutching the mask.

"_But Erik…" _Her voice had lost its hatred, but not its passion. She looked at him anew through the adoring eyes of a mother, teacher and lover. Erik was terrified of her, her quick mood swings made him very uneasy and he tried to make himself as small as possible, but he knew it would not do a thing. He was hers, he knew it.

"…_Fear can turn to love,_

_You'll learn to see,_

_To find,_

_The woman behind the monster..." _She took another shuddering breath and continued on looking horribly disgusted with herself.

"…_This, repulsive carcass,_

_Which seems a beast, but secretly…_

_Dreams of beauty,_

_Secretly…secretly…" _Her movements had stopped and she had ended up staring hopelessly at him, and it made his heart ache. She sank down in front of him and extended her hand that was not covering her face towards him.

"_Oh…Erik…"_ She whispered half to herself and half to Erik. Erik stayed silent and gazed at her for a moment or two. She seemed completely broken down and so very alone. Erik regretted trying to see under her mask and carefully place it gently back into her palm. She looked at him and turned away from his gaze to put the mask back on. She stood with her back to him and her hair flowing down her back.

"_Come, we must return,_

_Those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you." _She announced without a hint of emotion in her voice, like the whole incident that just happened between them, did not exist.

**A/N: Hoped you enjoyed this. Actually I quite enjoyed writing it, because Erik and the Phantomess are connecting some more…YAY! Review please.**


	20. Backward Journey

Chapter 20

Erik stayed motionless under the music stand while the Phanotmess re-adjusted her music sheets and candlesticks. It was not long before she turned back towards him and offered her hand. He stood up from the ground, his muscles cramping slightly, and reluctantly took her outstretched hand.

"You're taking me back?" Erik said, his fear showing clearly in his voice. She looked at him a long time before she turned away and began to walk back towards the boat.

_"Yes, we shall return Erik."_ She sighed deeply, and led him into the boat and waited until he sat down before she pushed the boat away from the shore and took up the oar again.

The boat ride back to his dressing room was a long and quiet one, as neither of them spoke. Erik stared out across the water and the candles as they sank back into its murky depths, almost as if they were saying goodbye to him. The only sounds he could hear was the steady splash of the oar, which the Phantomess used to propel the boat forward and the soft hiss of steam, showing thatthe candleswere being extinguished. The journey home was different from the ride there. Before it was a journey of mystery, music and seduction. Now, it was a journey of death like silence and thoughts. In the silence now, there was nothing to do: but think.

Erik was scared, a severe understatement, but true none-the-less. He hated things he did not know, and places he felt uncomfortable. This woman, if you could call her that, had snatched him away from the only things he knew in life and taken him to a place where he had no bearings. In his mind also was the overwhelming love of music, but an odd attraction and admiration for her. Not only had she shown him things way out of his comfort level, but, she shared her music with him. That music, which had filled his soul and made it take flight, he had heard music in that one night that he had never heard before. Therefore, by the end of his thought process, Erik was thoroughly confused as to whether he admired, or feared the Phantomess. In the last of his mind was relief. Relief to be returning to what he knew, place and people who would welcome him back. He wondered vaguely what he would say to them to explain his absence, but he pushed it far from his mind, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

The darkness began to press around them as they reached the other shore, but the old torched flickered obediently as the Phantomess hopped out of the boat and tied it up to the dock. She lowered her hand towards Erik, and he took is to help him out of the boat. She seemed satisfied and reached for the torch on the wall, the flames leaping and twisting in greeting as she took it. She held it high above her head, which lit the way and pressed on down the corridor that became more and more familiar looking. Erik's hand, which was held almost painfully in hers winced as she began to move off. She didn't turn around at all, but sensed his cringe.

"_A few moments, be patient." _She announced softly and plunged deeper as the flames from the hand held iron torches came into view. Erik almost sighed in relief as they passed many dozens of flames and the air was getting warmer and warmer, telling Erik that they had almost reached the surface. He fought the strong urge to run towards the mirror, which he now saw, but was afraid of what the Phantomess would do if she knew that he did not want to be under her power any longer. She strode up to the mirror and Erik was about to push past her to get to the mirror when the Phantomess threw him against the wall with much more force then he imagined she could have. He tried to cry aloud but found that her hand was clamped tightly around his mouth. "_Quiet."_ She hissed as she glared out the mirror into Erik's bedroom. Erik tried to see around her but her body blocked the way, and he had no intention of moving from where she had him pinned against the wall. All of a sudden he thought that he could hear shuffles coming from his room, but without seeing anything, he couldn't be sure. However, something had made the Phantomess seize up become wary. He forced his ears to listen and finally he could hear voices talking.

"Messieurs, I am afraid that I cannot take this any longer." Erik recognised this voice as Rachelle's "I demand to know where he is, it's been well over a day since he disappeared. Now tell me who he was with!" Erik heard her yell loudly. A day? Thought Erik, it had seemed like a lifetime down there.

"And as we've told you, Mademoiselle de Chagny, we have no idea where he is!" said, who Erik believed to be Firmin.

"I assume, he's just been out with someone…" said Andre

"That someone was supposed to be me!" interrupted Rachelle dangerously. At this comment the Phantomess laughed, and the sound rang eerily along the corridors and the dialogue in front of the mirror stopped abruptly.

"Did you hear that?" asked Andre in fear.

"You're both going mad! Listen to me, Erik's been kidnapped, when will you take action?" said Rachelle very angrily.

"Mademoiselle, do you have any evidence that he has been captured." Erik heard enraged footsteps and a table being knocked over.

"Here. This is your evidence!" said Rachelle. Erik, however, had no idea what 'this' was until one of the managers spoke up.

"A rose? Surely you can't be serious."

"Oh Monsieur Firmin, I am quite serious. You see, after the performance, and before the gala, there was someone in this room with Erik. A woman left this rose, I saw Erik with it, he treated it like the most precious thing in the world. They talked for a bit and when I knocked on the door to take Erik to dinner they disappeared from the room, how, I do not know." Two hearty laughs were heard after this statement.

"There you see, I was right. He went out with another woman and has not returned." Exclaimed Andre, but quickly cut off the rest of this exclamation, and Erik assumed that Rachelle was fuming at the pair of them.

"You dare to laugh at me? Your Patron? I am the one who is keeping this Opera House running must I remind you. I can't believe that you accused me of jealousy. Mark my words," she said with a low voice, "Erik was kidnapped, and if you don't intend to help me or give up information, I shall find him alone."

"Listen Mademoiselle de Chagny." Said Andre in a sugary sweet voice he often reserved for when La Carlotta was in a terrible fit of rage, "As I've told you before, we know nothing about Erik's whereabouts. Now if we did, we would see to it that-" a quick knock on the door made one of the managers stop talking and swing it open.

"Ah Mme. Giry!" exclaimed Andre.

"No time Messieues." She said abruptly and very business-like as always. "It's…" but a shrill scream and much banging interrupted whatever Mme. Giry said next.

"Oh no…not again." Said Firmin sadly.

"I'm afraid so Messieurs. Please come quickly, I hate leaving Monsieur Reyer with them alone."

"Very well." Snapped Andre. And Erik heard more shuffling and footsteps along with the door creaking.

"What about Erik? Surely you can't just do nothing!" protested Rachelle.

"Mademoiselle, please this is important. Erik will return to the Opera House before you know it."

"How can you be so sure?" said Rachelle in a suspicious tone, and Erik felt the vice like grip of the Phantomess' hand over his mouth tighten considerably and he winced again. Mme. Giry paused.

"Where else would he go?" she said with a haughty air and the grip of the Phantomess' hand slackened somewhat. Erik heard more footsteps and the door slammed shut.

It was a few more minutes before the hand released Erik's mouth and the Phantomess moved ahead and her body shifted out of the way. As he was released from the wall he looked through the glass and saw that the room was completely empty. She clicked something on the wall and the mirror slid open and the afternoon sun spilled into Erik's room. She was no longer touching him and he moved forwards slowly into the light of the room and turned back to see the Phantomess in the shadows. They locked eyes and silence fell heavily between the two. Erik finally broke the silence with an intake of breath.

"Will I get to see you again?" he asked awkwardly, but he spoke in truth. The Phantomess searched his eyes and frowned.

"_You have seen why I hide in shadows…" _she paused and lifted her hands to her face and fear and curiosity sparked into a new life in Erik. Was she going to remove it? She however, felt it and then let her hands drop back to her sides. "_…and yet you still wish to see me?"_ Erik swallowed hard and gazed at the mysterious woman who had come into his life and turned it upside down.

"I do." He said simply. She stepped out of the mirror and approached him silently, the daylight looking very out of place on her features. Erik began to be unsure of himself again as she came closer and closer, but she stopped and smiled at him. Her hand came out and she placed it on his forehead, leaning in close towards him.

"_I will be there in your dreams Erik." _She removed her hand and turned away to walk back into the mirror. She threw a look over her shoulder at Erik, her mask shinning in the daylight and torchlight alike. As the mirror began to close she bowed to him and stood back up, on her face was written hope and joy. "_We'll sing together there."_

And then she was gone from sight, and Erik was left alone in his room.

**A/N: Hey, really liked this chapter, tell me what you think! Review please!**


	21. Running a Business

Chapter 21

It was deadly still in Erik's room, only the sound of his only breathing told him he was there. He sank to the floor and gazed at the mirror:

He had no idea that at the same time the Phantomess was staring back at him from behind it.

The sunlight fell through his room, and the window split it into patterns on his carpeted floor. He glanced around at the bunches of flowers, they hadn't wilted over night, but some one must have replaced them and put new ones in, for there were a lot more then he remembered yesterday, then again, he wasn't really thinking yesterday, it had all been a blur. All of sudden he found his thoughts on Rachelle, and the scene he had just heard. She sounded horrified that no one was doing anything to save him…save him…she thought he had been kidnapped. Erik smiled at her innocence, she would never, could never know what happened between him and the Phantomess. He glanced out the window at the sunshine and the paved streets where people milled around their lives buying and selling, meeting new people and hugging old ones. It seemed so trivial to him now; it was if he couldn't go back to his old life.

In truth he knew he couldn't.

Erik also knew he couldn't just sit here and stare at the rug. He stood up, then noticing he was still in his clothes from the night before, went to chance. He looked at the mirror, blushed and then ran behind the screen to change. He had no idea that the Phantomess gently chuckled. Erik emerged a few moments later, dressed in more casual wear, one that he had founded wrapped up in a box from a fan. He took another quick glance at the mirror and opened the door.

"I'll be back soon." Erik said softly as he opened the door and closed it behind him. The Phantomess nodded to the empty room and moved off to watch the mayhem she was just about to create.

Erik crept down the hallway, he still wasn't sure where the auditorium was, but if he guessed correctly, the person who had screamed would be La Carlotta in a temper, who would be in rehearsals. It didn't take long to find however, because Erik found to his delight that the hallway he was in went directly to the auditorium and was quite close as well. He was just about to pull open the door, but he thought better of it, not certain if he wanted people to know he was back, and peeked, instead, through the glass windows of the door. He saw many dancers and singers milling around in groups as, he guessed correctly, La Carlotta and Senior Pianji were yelling at the managers, who were desperately trying to find a way out. He noticed that whatever they were yelling about, was causing much interest among the chorus members and the orchestra, but they hid their faces as soon as they thought someone was looking. Erik dashed behind a corner as soon as he saw the managers, Mme. Giry, La Carlotta and Senior Pianji making their way down the isle. The door banged open and they were all shouting at once at each other. It seemed no one could calm them down and restore order. Erik shrank further behind the wall so as not to be seen and he saw the whole group make their way to the staircase of the Grand Hall, now clear of the breakfast and lunch tables.

"Mystery  
after gala night,'  
it says, 'Mystery  
of the tenor's flight!' " Firmin cried in anger above the rest and they all hushed down to listen to him. Firmin stared down at the paper he held in his hand of the news today and heaved a big sigh as he read the read lines aloud to the others.

"'Mystified'  
baffled Surete say,  
'we are mystified -  
we suspect foul play!' " Firmin glanced down the articles and began to read out little bits of bit from each of them.  
"'Tenors

Get no easier -  
first Pianji,  
now Destler!'   
Still, at least  
the seats get sold  
gossip's worth  
its weight in gold…" He glanced around at everyone and folded the paper under his arm and began to walk up the stairs with the others following hot on his heels. Carlotta shoved a cleaning lady out of the way in order to make it faster towards Firmin, and Pianji gave a snort of disapproval at the article, which Firmin had just read. He muttered something about his reputation, but Carlotta soothed him quietly and they both regarded Firmin again as he threw up his hands, and placed them over his face.  
"What a way to  
run a business!  
Spare me these  
unending trials!  
Half your cast disappears,  
but the crowd still cheers!  
Opera!  
To hell with Gluck and Handel -  
It's a scandal that'll  
pack 'em in the aisles!" He continued to walk up the stairs, unaware that the group behind him was there, let alone waiting for him to speak again. However it was Andre who spoke up again, as Firmin was lost in his angry thoughts.

"DAMNABLE!   
Will they all walk out?  
This is damnable! " He screamed, joining Firmin at the top of the stairs, while the others hung back with baited breath. Firmin seemed to see Andre for the first time as he turned to him and he glanced down to the auditorium doors and the group behind. He placed a warning hand on Andre's shoulder and hushed him with a finger to his lips.

"Andre, please don't shout ...  
It's publicity!  
And the take is vast!  
Free publicity!" Firmin was cut off by Andre, who lowered his voice to match Firmin's. Both of the managers looked terrible, lack of sleep, constant tantrums from their stars and the Opera Ghost had not made them age as well as they would have liked.  
"But we have no cast..."  
"But Andre,   
have you seen the queue? …" Firmin asked Andre, trying to comfort him, but interrupted himself when he saw Andre carrying a cream coloured envelope, much the same as he was himself. Erik took the opportunity where all of them were leaning in towards the managers to step away from his dark corner and hide just beneath the stairs, in order to hear them better. It looked like they were reading from a piece of paper.  
"…Oh, it seems  
you've got one too..."

"_'Dear Andre  
what a charming gala!  
Erik enjoyed a great success!   
We were hardly bereft  
when Pianji left -  
otherwise   
the chorus was entrancing,  
but the dancing was a  
lamentable mess!_' " Firmin glanced over Andre's shoulder, as Andre read the letter which had been recently sealed with red wax in the form of Death's Head. Firmin clutched Andre's shoulder tightly and gasped in shock at what the Phantomess had written. Andre finished reading it and turned to Firmin as if to ask for an explanation, and Firmin waved his own letter in front of Andre's face. He read it aloud:  
" _'Dear Firmin,  
just a brief reminder:  
my salary has not been paid.  
Send it care of the ghost,  
by return of post  
P.T.O.:  
No-one likes a debtor,  
so it's better if my  
orders are obeyed!' _" Firmin snapped at the end of it and stuffed the thing into his pocket while Andre stared in awe. They both looked at each other and shook their heads as if the Opera Ghostess was in their heads and they were trying to get rid of her. They tuned their backs to the group and Erik leaned a bit closer in order to hear what they were whispering to each other.  
"Who would have the gall  
to send this?  
Someone with a puerile brain!" The two managers said together and furrowed their brows in concentration and frustration at being used like puppets.  
"These are both signed 'O.G.'... " Andre exclaimed in fascination as he turned over his own letter and examined the tiny, child-like writing of the signature.  
"Who the hell is she?" demanded Firmin to no one in particular. The frowned for a moment and stood in silence before a sudden and terrible realisation dawned on them both and they whispered together.  
"Opera ghostess!"  
"It's really not amusing…" Andre said quickly, but Firmin interrupted him.  
"…She's abusing  
our position!"  
"In addition  
She wants money…"  
"…She's a funny  
sort of spectre…"  
"... to expect a  
large retainer!" The together they snapped their fingers and stared back, wide eyed at each other and shouted.  
"Nothing plainer -  
she is clearly quite insane!" They turned back to the group behind them; Mme. Giry, Senior Pianji, La Carlotta, and the hidden Erik, all looking thoroughly confused at the sudden change in the managers. They all returned looks at each other in silence for a few moments until a huge bang broke the silence and everyone turned on their heels just to see a wild looking woman running through the front doors.

**A/N: I wasn't so sure about this chapter, didn't really care to write it, please review!**


	22. Broken Seals

**A/N: Oh my, thank you all very much for your lovely reviews. I must say I was very concerned about it, since I don't usually like writing with lyrics put in, I am glad you did enjoy it. I only hope you like this one as well.**

Chapter 22

Brown hair was tied back with a black ribbon into a ponytail and a simple, yet elegant white dress flew behind the woman who was rushing to reach the crowd on the stairs. In her honey coloured eyes you could see hatred and fury, with a bizarre mixture of worry and panic. Her white heels clicked on the newly polished wooden floor and she ran, in a quite unladylike manner, since her dress was unfurling around her calves and upper thighs. Her chest was heaving heavily and she reached them quickly and like lightning made it up to the managers and thrust a cream coloured envelope, which had a torn red seal on it, and a crushed up letter as well. Firmin, who was clsoer took a frightened step backward and knocked into Andre, which almost sent the pair of them tumbling down the stairs.

"Now I know you're lying! Why I put up with you and your Opera House, I have no idea! Where is he?" Rachelle screamed at the pair of them, which sent the whole group jumping on the spot, and Pianji muttered something to Carlotta that sounded like:

"Such manners." However, she ignored the comment and her furious gaze bored into the managers, demanding an explanation. If Erik had thought she was angry before, she was positively livid now. In fact, he would bet that she could give Mme. Giry a run for her money. Erik glanced behind him and saw a few ballet girls scurry off as Rachelle had screamed and he grinned and moved beneath the stairs to the opposite side where he could get a better view of the back of Rachelle and the manager's expressions. The managers, clearly terrified of course, but not as much as they would have been if the Phantomess herself had shown up demanding the same thing, tried their never failing act of compromise.

"You mean Pianji?" Andre asked from behind Firmin, who he was using as a shield and decided to play the part of the stupid manager, except Erik had a suspicion that Andre wasn't really acting at all.

"I mean Monsieur Destler –

Where is he?" she demanded again, briefly humouring Andre's stupidity, and Erik was sure that Rachelle knew that Andre wasn't acting the stupid part either. Firmin drew himself up to full height and looked down at Rachelle who didn't flinch a muscle at Firmin's weak attempt to intimidate her.  
"Well, how should we know?" Firmin asked Rachelle's angry face in another attempt to calm her down.  
"I want an answer -  
I take it that you sent me this note?" referring to the note she had grasped firmly in her hand and was stuffing it under Firmin's nose.

"What's all this nonsense?" Firmin asked indignantly.  
"Of course not!" shouted Andre from behind Firmin, making sure that Rachelle could hear his answer to his question and he stepped out from behind Firmin and squared his shoulders to Rachelle. She gave them both a suspicious eye, which Erik couldn't see from his position, and the managers drew back a little bit, barely noticeable at all.  
"Don't look at us!" Protested Firmin angrily and slightly flustered at being accused of something like this. He glanced towards Andre and they shared a look, they knew who the note was from. The Opera Ghostess.  
"He's not with you, then?" asked Rachelle, lowering her guard somewhat and her voice faltered a bit as the absurd notion hit her that the managers might be telling the truth.  
"Of course not!" shouted Andre again repeating himself now that he saw Rachelle look less sure of herslef.  
"We're in the dark..." began Firmin, but Rachelle cut him off abruptly and stepped forward with new zeal.  
"Monsieur, don't argue -  
Isn't this the  
letter you wrote? " she said pulling the note away from Firmin's chin and waving it in the air for all to see. Her honey eyes blazed again with anger and suspicion, the managers noting this, forgot about trying to please her and Andre stepped forward to meet her with equal edge in his voice.  
"And what is it, that we're  
meant to have wrote?"

"Written!" Firmin corrected his partner with a short word and snatched the note from the Countess' outstretched hand and began to read aloud, more to himself and Andre then to the others.

" _'Do not fear for Monsieur Destler.  
The Angel of Music  
has him under her wing.  
Make no attempt to see him again.'_ " Silence filled the grand hall as the words washed over the small group, letting the words sink in. Rachelle took back the note from Firmin and glanced at it again, seeming a bit unsure of herself and returned her gaze to the managers. She believed them, after all, why would they have any reason to lie to her, it would gain them nothing. Instead of anger in her eyes, they showed worry for the second time in one day.  
"If you didn't write it, who did?" Rachelle lowered her voice to almost a whisper as she asked the question and the manager had just opened their mouths to say the answer when the ground shook and Senior Pianji stumbled up the stairs to stare Rachelle, which made everyone completely forget about the previous note.  
"What is it now?" Firmin sighed in annoyance as he saw La Carlotta make her way to the side of Pianji. Senior Piaji's gaze however, was not on the mangers, in fact he ignored them completely and said with a hurt look.  
"I have your letter -  
a letter which I  
rather resent!" Pianji said as he puffed out his chest and Rachelle stared back at him, clearly insulted that Pianji would claim such a thing. The managers glanced between the two of them, happy that the attention was off them, but Firmim had to ask out of curiosity.  
"And did you send it?" but he quickly regretted what he asked, because not only did he see the note, which Senior Pianji held up in front of Countess Rachelle, (which was the usual cream coloured and a broken red Death's Head seal) but Rachelle gave him a piercing stare.  
"Of course not!" she defended herself and looked back to Pianji as he made his way closer to her.  
"As if she would!" scoffed Firmin, taking the side, which porvided the most money to the Opera House. Pianji, although loaded with talent was somewhat easily replaceable, but with the rumours flying around, a Patron would be harder to find.  
"You didn't send it?" asked a furious Pianji who gave Rachelle a suspicious eye.  
"Of course not!" she defended herself again.  
"What's going on ...?" asked Andre, a little confused, but Frimin nudged him and motioned to the letter and Andre fell silent.  
"You dare to tell me,  
that this is not the  
letter you sent !" demanded Pianji, interrupting Andre.  
"And what is it that I'm  
meant to have sent?" Rachelle demanded to Pianji equally enraged again. Pianji gave a huffy sigh and handed the note over to Rachelle who took it from his hand with lightning speed. She glanced down, both the managers peering over her shoulder, but she shrugged them off and proceeded to read the note aloud, which seemed to suit everyone fine, but they all leaned closer: just in case they missed something.  
"_'Your days  
at the Opera Populaire are numbered.  
Erik Destler  
will be singing on your behalf tonight.  
Be prepared  
for a great misfortune,  
should you attempt  
to take his place.' _" She finished the note and looked up from it with confusion towards Pianji. She handed it back to him, but he would not touch it and so she crumbled it up and threw it behind her, landing two steps away from Erik. Erik glanced up and making sure that no one saw him, he left the cover of the staircase and made his way slowly in order to grab the note. The managers looked back at each other and shrugged, which caused Rachelle and Pianji to turn to them furiously, as if these notes were all their fault.  
"Far too many  
notes for my taste -  
and most of them  
about Erik!  
All we've heard since we came  
is Monsieur Destler's name..." the said together, just as Erik reached the note and placed it in hi pocket. As he heard his name, he stopped dead in his tracks and peered up, with the expression of a deer caught in headlights. To his relief, no one was looking back at him, they were still arguing over the stupid letters: all except one.

Mme. Giry

Her midnight black eyes drilled into his own, and his blood ran cold. She'd seen him, now there was no escape, even if he decided to run there would be no point, there was nowhere for him to run. Thoughts reeled around in his head, on an escape plan, he knew he must think of something quickly, otherwise Mme. Giry was sure to tell the rest of them that he was here. Then a thought hit him, in fact it was so simple he wondered in amazement how he couldn't have thought of it before.

He'd go back to the Phantomess. She'd protect him.

He returned his mind to the present, for that was what he had to deal with at the moment. The silence was complete, and Erik hardly dared to breathe, fearing he would give away his spot, but then it was gone anyway. He pleaded silently with Mme. Giry not to say a word, and to his utter surprise and amazement, she gave a tiny smile and rose her finger to her lips. He blinked and looked at her again, just to make sure he hadn't imagined it, but no, she was there tilting her eyes to order him to get back behind the stairs. He rose a foot, to return but saw her mouth open and he shut his eyes tight, waiting for the announcement that was bound to come.

"Monsieur Destler has returned." Mme. Giry said softly, which caused the others to spin around and stare at her. Erik's heart sank, she'd done it, now what would he say to explain his absence? He wasn't ready to deal with people just yet, in fact he didn't much want to sing again for the time being.  
"I trust his midnight oil  
is well and truly burned." Firmin said with an air of frustration. Rachelle flew down from the top of the stairs, where she had just been standing with the managers and grabbed the shoulders of Mme. Giry with much more force then one would expect of a woman that possessed such a small frame. Rachelle shook Mme. Giry's shoulders forcefully, causing Mme. Giry to allow a small wince of pain cross her face.  
"Where precisely is he now?" Rachelle asked Mme. Giry with much urgency in her voice as the rest threw glances around as if Erik was in the room with them. They had no idea how right they were, for Erik was still in plain view frozen in place, pure luck had been the only thing, which made Erik still unseen by the others. That and the fact, Mme. Giry spoke up very quickly after Rachelle's question.  
"I thought it best  
that he was alone...he needed rest." Their sweeping gazes, all missing Erik with improbable odds, returned to Mme. Giry and Erik opened his eyes.  
"May I see him?" Rachelle demanded quickly, the urgency still apparent in her voice. Her eyes bore into Mme. Giry, pleading with her.  
"No, Mademoiselle,  
He will see no-one." Mme. Giry held up her hands in front of Rachelle, to stop the flow of questions.  
"Will he sing?  
Will he sing?" shouted Senior Pianji and La Carlotta, who were feeling serious withdraw symptoms from not being the centre of attention like usual. Mme. Giry ignored the pair of them and reached into her cloak, to reveal, yet another, cream coloured envelope with a red Death's Head, the seal still unbroken.  
"Here, I have a note..." she said, and Erik gaped at her unnoticed by all, who were staring at the letter as if it were made of poison. Erik was relieved and exhausted as the adrenaline drained from his body. Mme. Giry in fact hadn't betrayed him, she had, most cleverly Erik admitted, seen him, kept his secret, told everyone that he was back, but wanted to be left alone, and diverted their attention by changing the subject. New found respect formed inside of Erik for this stern woman in black and he made a mental note to try and be more co-operative with her.  
"Let me see it!" Andre, La Carlotta, and Pianji all yelled together shattering the silence into many pieces, which gave Erik the necessary level of noise to allow his breathing to continue and to return to his place behind the stairs. Six hands shot out and fought each other in order to reach the letter.  
"Please!" shouted Firmin above the rest of them, and squirmed his way through the bodies in order to snatch the letter out of Mme. Giry 's hand and held it away from the others in order to read it.

"_'Gentlemen, _

_I have now sent you several notes _

_of the most amiable nature,  
detailing how my theatre _

_is to be run. _

_You have not followed my instructions. _

_I shall give you _

_one last chance . . .  
Monsieur Destler has returned to you,  
and I am anxious his career  
should surmount.  
In the new production of 'Il Muto',  
you will therefore cast Pianji  
as the Page girl, and put Monsieur Destler  
in the role of the Count.  
The role, which Monsieur Destler plays  
calls for charm and appeal.  
The role of the Page girl is silent -  
which makes my casting,  
in a word, ideal. _

_I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in Box Five, which  
will be kept empty for me.  
Should these commands be ignored, _

_a disaster beyond your imagination  
will occur.  
I remain, Gentlemen, _

_Your obedient servant, O.G.' _"


	23. Pleading Fans

Chapter 23

Everyone in the grand hall stood in silence, Erik still found this quite strange coming from La Carlotta, Senior Pianji, and the two managers, but he realised quickly that he could get quite used to it. This light thought however, was the least of his problems for the moment. He sank to the ground without a noise and put his head in his hands. What was the Phantomess doing? Why would she say to give him the lead role? Erik put his hands down and peered around the corner and saw the group still standing in stunned silence. This wouldn't go well at all, thought Erik. Pianji would never accept being second best to him, and the managers would never allow themselves to be pushed and bullied around at someone else's expense. The Phantomess might be able to control a lot of things, but there was one thing she couldn't control: the pride of a gentleman used to getting his way. This was bound to be a disaster and Erik's gaze left the group and he looked around the lobby expecting to see her. He needed to reason with her, but then again, why did he expect her to listen to him. Of course she wasn't anywhere to be seen and so he returned his eyes to the group, although he could have sworn he heard laughter echoing around the hall, but it was drowned out when Pianji yelled in frustration.

"Erik!" shouted Pianji. Erik froze, but when he saw that no one was looking his way he relaxed visibly.  
"Whatever next...?" mumbled the managers together, wishing all the madness would stop, and for once Erik whole-heartily agreed with them  
"It's all a ploy to help Erik!" Pianji shouted and this time La Carlotta shrieked in as well to his defence. It was just as well, two broken ear drums were more painful then one.  
"This is insane..." the managers said again, trying to edge their way away from the two angry singers who would not let them move.  
"I know who sent this: The Countess - his lover!" screamed Pianji in a rage and threw an accusing finger in Rachelle's direction, who took a step a back and glared back at him. She smoothed out her dress and looked to the managers, but they avoided her gaze like the plague.  
"Indeed? Can you believe this?" said Rachelle lifting up her hands as if in surrender and rolled her eyes. She didn't quite get the reaction she had hopped however, for the managers were surrounding Pianji and gave him pats on the back.  
"Signor!" they said in a comforting voice, but Pianji shrugged them off and began to walk away muttering to himself and Carlotta dutifully followed, clutching his arm. The managers began to follow Pianji, but when they got to close, Carlotta turned around and hissed at them like a snake and they watched their step from then on. "This changes nothing!" the told him hoping to make him stop and listen, but it was if they had just stayed silent for all the good it did. "Signor!" they cried again, trying to catch up to him before he and Carlotta walked out the front door and took all that money they made with them. It was enough to make any respectable man get down on his knees and beg. "You are our star! And always will be! Signor!" they both cried, close to tears by this point. Rachelle, however, was ready to strangle the pair of them, first for doing nothing about Erik's kidnapping and then for not being on her side about this affair. "The man is mad! We don't take orders!" they had reached Pianji's side and both had put themselves on either side and gently grabbed his arms, making him listen to them.

"Monsieur Destler will be playing the Page girl - the silent role..." began Firmin speaking in a soft coaxing tone to the heavy tenor. Andre, catching his partner's drift finished the sentence.  
"…Carlotta will be playing the lead!" Pianji stopped at the front doors and stood still before throwing both the managers away from him in one dramatic sweep of his arm. Rachelle sighed and shook her head muttering something about actors always wanting attention.  
"It's useless trying to appease me! You're only saying this to please me!" Pianji shouted, and Carlotta rushed back to the side of his arm and gave a terrifying look down to where each of the managers lay sprawled on the ground, unfitting to their positions. They seemed to catch on to this fact quicker then expected and stumbled to their feet.

"Senior! Please!" said Andre clutching Pianji's other arm, the one without Carlota attached to it. Firmin came and stood in front of Pianji with a wide smile on his face, but the look on Pianji's face did little to wipe away Firmin's expression.

"Get out of my way! Don't you want your precious little star!" With a man like Pianji making his way closer to Firmin who was at least half his size (although the food that managers indulged in most every night made sure that the above fact was not quite true), one would think that Firmin would scurry out of the way. However, Firmin held his ground and grinned even wider as Pianji made his way closer and closer.

"No Senior. The world wants you." Firmin said simply, as if explaining it to a child, and Erik thought this way of stating it was very apt, for Pianji was indeed just an overgrown child. Senior Pianji squinted with disbelieving and sceptical eyes at the small man who stood before him. Wanting to prove his point quickly, Firmin reached the brass door handles behind him and swung them open and Pianji's mouth hung open very unceremoniously.

Standing before the grand steps of the Opera House was a large crowd of rich ladies and gentlemen all dressed up for a wonderful time at the famous Paris Opera House. The sleek, black top hats of the gentlemen twinkled in the afternoon sun and the flutter of ladies' fan were mixed in with the shouts of the vendors, who seemed to never leave the busy square, right out front. Many of the women held flowers, or single red roses, or any other assortment of gifts wrapped in brightly coloured paper. They pushed and muttered to each other, each woman trying to maker her way to the front in order to bestow her gift on the leading tenor at the moment: Erik Destler. Pianji took all of this in a broad smile came to his lips as he welcomed what he thought were his adoring fans. One of the woman managed to push her way forward, above the rest and held out a single red rose to Pianji, since Firmin had stepped aside, and smiled sweetly. Her brown eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled with her thin lips. She was well into her 30's, but her enormous amount of face powder that she had applied to herself as well as the pile of makeup she had adorned herself with seemed to be a futile attempt to keep her young.

"Monsieur Destler?" she inquired with that smile, as her eyes searched Pianji who stood before her. "Can you please give this to Monsieur Destler?" she asked again. Pianji glared at her, the kindness now out of his eyes. He fumed in anger at the woman who had unintentionally done something wrong, but Firmin smiled politely and shut the doors in her and the rest of the crowd's face. Pianji's face was slowly turning red, and the veins on his neck were beginning to pop out, a sure sign of a tantrum coming on.

Erik looked on as Firmin shut the door and he was puzzled. Were all those people out there really wanting him? Was he their star? He couldn't see how, he didn't even know if he really wanted it to be true anyhow. Rachelle stood apart from them, her eyes darting around, but not really seeing anything, and muttering to the letter she held in her hand. Firmin and Andre were surrounding Pianji, and Carlotta was on the outside, trying to pry her way to stand beside Pianji, desperately trying to listen in. The dialogue between them however, did not interest Erik very much and so he looked for Mme. Giry, just to make sure the coast was clear. When he couldn't see her anywhere, he assumed that she had gone back to finish the ballet rehearsals and so he turned around and crossed beneath the stairs. His path made him invisible to the group in the front hall and to the people in the auditorium, who were only interested in their own conversations. By this time he had reached the edge of the stairs, and the shadows and now he was about to take the plunge into the light and dart off to his dressing room. _Strange, _his little voice told him, _you fear the light as well, it seems now that darkness is your companion. _Erik shook his head, forcing the voice from his mind. He needed to concentrate he really didn't need to be thinking about her. He was nothing like her. His feet steady beneath him, he crouched low and coiled his muscles for the sprint to the corridor, which led to his room. _3…2…1…_ He dashed out, and collided with something tall, dark, and hard.

"Watch where you're going child." A sharp voice scolded him and a talon like grip was around his arm and dragging him somewhere. Stars exploded in Erik's eyes, and he couldn't see where he was going. The voice was a woman's and she was breathing hard, Erik didn't know if it was from the collision, or the fact that this woman was pulling him along. His head swam as he fought to remain conscious, but his feet tripped over each other uselessly. His arms were pinned against his sides, it seemed that the only thing that was working properly was his mouth.

"Angel?" he groaned as a new wave of pain shot through his head, making it pound. He tried to curl into a ball to stop the pain but the woman would have none of it, so they kept on moving.

"Don't you dare say such things here." The woman hissed in his ear and he shrank away slightly. Erik might not have been able to see, but the difference between light and dark was apparent, and he could tell they were in a dark place. He also knew they were alone, for he could hear no voices, except in the distance, and so he assumed that they had left the front hall and the auditorium. Only the sounds of the two pairs of feet softly padding on carpet gave Erik an idea that they were in one of the many corridors and he had the sneaking suspicion that they were headed to his own room that very minute.

"Where are we going?" Erik asked stupidly, having a good idea where they were headed. He was met with silence. "Why are you taking me there?" he inquired louder this time. For an answer to his question, the woman pulled his arm harder and sped up so that Erik painfully followed the woman as his sight returned. He gazed up, and in the dim light he could make out her features.

It was Mme. Giry.

"Mme. Giry?" Erik asked in bewilderment.

"Haven't I told you be quiet." She said in a whisper, "_she_could be listening." Mme. Giry glanced around nervously and continued down the corridor. "After all, Erik you of all people should know, she is always watching and listening." Erik opened his mouth again to speak, but she shook her head and put a finger to his lips. "I will say no more until we are safe."

"I don't understand."

"Hush child. Must I tell you every two minutes?" She rolled her eyes and they stopped in front a door, which was unfamiliar to Erik and he looked up at Mme. Giry with questioning eyes. She reached into her black robes and glanced around before putting the key in the lock and turning it so that there was a dull clicking sound and the door swung open because Mme. Giry pushed against it. She glanced around a second time and ushered Erik into the room before closing the door behind the both of them.

"Where are we?" asked Erik as he explored the new room with his eyes.

"Don't touch anything in here Erik, or I shall see to it personally that your life will be miserable. My possessions are very precious to me; I would hate anything to happen to them." Erik nodded his understanding and gave the room another look around.

It was very strange indeed to be in the room of Mme. Giry. The ballet mistress.

**A/N: Sorry about the wait everyone, thank you for being patient. I hope you liked this chapter, I promise though it will get better, now that Notes/Prima Donna is over…well you all know the rest of the story, more or less, without my very own personal twists. Read and review please!**


	24. Unwanted Discussions

Chapter 24

"Sit down Erik." Mme. Giry said somewhat kindly, and Erik obeyed without question, sitting down on a soft purple covered sofa. Mme. Giry locked the door from inside and made her way over to the windows, in order to shut the curtains, throwing the room into half darkness, very uncommon for the time of day that it was.

"Mme. Giry, I wasn't doing what you think."

"I see, so the fact that I've seen you eavesdrop twice now is merely a coincidence?"

"No…I…" Erik fell silent, unsure of how to answer her question, but Mme. Giry shook her head, heaved a tiny sigh and turned around to face him.

"She's rubbed off on you I see. She likes to pry into other people's business."

"That was my business back there! It was about my position in the Opera coming up." Mme. Giry rolled her eyes and crossed the room to her vanity table where she perched on the small stool before it. She surveyed Erik through her black eyes and gave him a tired look.

"Be that as is may Erik," she said in matter-of-factly tone, "it is not your place to talk about such things."

"But the Phantomess wants me to perform. She wrote it in those letters." Mme. Giry sighed and held out her hand.

"That reminds me, hand it over Erik." Erik looked confused for a moment, and then it dawned on him and he removed the crumbled up letter from his pocket and handed it over to Mme. Giry.

"Do you miss anything?" Erik asked aloud.

"Not much my child." She said softly, a strange look coming into her eyes, and she stared off into the distance. Erik decided very quickly, that he'd take advantage of her state of mind to try and find out who the Phantomess really was. He had a sneaking suspicion that Mme. Giry knew more about the Opera Ghostess then she was letting on, and Erik, being the brave man that he was, ventured forth into uncharted waters.

"You learned from the best, didn't you?"

"That I did." She said with love in her voice.

"What's her name?"

"Christine." As soon as she said this Mme. Giry snapped out of her revere and her hands flew to her mouth with utter horror coming into her eyes. "Oh God." She said in shock. Erik grinned, happy to have got the information, but as soon as he saw Mme. Giry leap up, he wished he had reconsidered what he had just done. "Erik Deslter!" she screamed. The smile vanished from his face as he saw her stride towards him, anger leaping and twisting in her eyes like flames. He drew himself up on the couch, cringing away from Mme. Giry, but it did no good. "Have you any idea what your foolishness has just cost you and me?" she said quite loudly. Erik shook his head, and Mme. Giry raised her hand poised to strike Erik's cheek, but in an instant or two lowered it regretfully.

"Mme. is it really so bad that I want to find out about her?" The anger was still there in her eyes threatening to spill out like hot lava.

"Of course it's natural, everyone wants to know." She spat and turned away from him.

"Then tell me Mme. please." Pleaded Erik to her back.

"No. I can't, I don't know anything about her." Erik eyed her with suspicion.

"That's not true Mme. Giry, and you know it."

"Erik, believe me when I say I know nothing other then her name." Mme. Giry walked over to a stool under the vanity table and pulled it out further, in order to sit on it. She settled down on top of it and regarded Erik, her face once more a stony mask.

"Mme. Giry you obviously knew her well before you and her came to the Opera House…"

"Erik, I thought we had closed this subject off. I do not wish to discuss it further."

"You said her name."

"Whose name?

"Christine's. The Phantomess." Mme. Giry shook her head.

"That is the name of my old ballet mistress, who taught me here, when I was studying to be a ballerina. Don't jump to conclusions Erik."

"Why would you react like that when I asked then?"

"…It is a past, which I'd rather forget. I am glad it is behind me."

"What did it cost us?"

"Excuse me?" Mme. Giry blinked, thrown off by the question.

"You said, my foolishness cost us something. What was it Mme.?" Mme. Giry stood up and crossed the floor once more, Erik was glad to see that the anger had left her eyes for the time being.

"Yes. Since you've got me worked up, and landed yourself on my bad side, you might not be so lucky with leading roles Erik Destler. In fact I might even get your understudy to replace you, and send you to the chorus line." Erik snorted in response to her obvious lie.

"Christine wouldn't allow it." Said Erik her name for a third time. It felt odd on his tongue, but the name seemed to fit her. At least some part of this mysterious woman was solved, and that was much better then nothing.

"Erik, I've told you that was the name of my old ballet mistress." Said Mme. Giry with exasperation in her voice.

"And I don't believe you. In fact, you've made me even more curious, why would you try so hard to keep Christine's identity secret?"

"Erik!" she said, louder then she intended. "For the final time, that's not her name!"

"Fine." Mumbled Erik, knowing defeat when he saw it. "But I don't believe one single word you've said."

"Ah I see. Then it will be a big shock when I tell the managers to replace you with Senior Pianji." Said Mme. Giry sourly.

"You, Mme., are not that stupid. You would never risk going against the word of the Phantomess. If she wants me to sing, then I sing." Mme. Giry shook her head.

"Actors." She muttered under her breath, "they're all the same." Erik grinned to himself, almost satisfied with his detective work, and settled into the back of the couch. Mme. Giry checked the old clock on her wall, passed down through her family for quite sometime and sighed. "Erik, tea time is in a few minutes. Might I suggest going to the hall and getting something to eat, before evening rehearsals."

"All right Mme." said Erik standing up, and crossing in front of her to reach the door. Mme. Giry opened the door and Erik walked out and headed towards the front hall, where a few people were milling around, talking, smoking, or patting their stomachs waiting for food. Mme. Giry pursed her lips at the retreating back of Erik Destler, unsure of what to make of him, and then closed the door again, for she knew what was going to come.

Or more precisely: who.

"Christine?" whispered Mme.Giry, locking her door, to avoid interruptions, but mostly to keep the privacy of the Opera Ghostess.

"_My, by this time, I would have thought you wouldn't even have to ask_." Said the hauntingly beautiful voice of the Opera Ghostess, now informally known as Christine. It filled the room, but managed to keep soft so as to keep nosy people away from the room.

"The mangers got your letters. However, I'm not sure how much good it did, they seem bent on putting Senior Pianji in for…Erik." A melodious laugh followed this statement.

"_You hesitate to say him name. Does this mean he has been the first person to crawl under your impenetrable exterior?_" Mme. Giry shifted quietly, uncomfortable that she had seen that scene, however she knew that Christine always saw everything.

"Have you been teaching him a thing or two?" A thoughtful silence followed Mme. Giry's voice.

"_No, that was his own talent shinning through. I do, however know about the managers. This is my Opera House after all Mme., I know it inside and out."_

"Of course you do. What shall I tell the mangers?"

"_I'll handle that myself."_

"Christine…" said Mme. in a warning tone and waggled her finger at nothing, but knowing that Christine was watching her. "Don't get involved. Something always terrible happens when you get involved."

"_Only when I'm upset."_

"Or angry." Mme. Giry completed the sentence.

"_Of which I am neither. So there is no reason to fear anything. Nothing bad will happen." _

"Somehow, I seriously doubt that Christine."

"_Doubt all you want Mme. But I am telling the truth."_

"Can I honestly accept the word from someone with a history such as yourself?" Mme. Giry knew she was treading on dangerous ground the moment she said it, but she had said it for the greater good.

"_I guess I don't have your support in this then." _Said Christine heavily after a few quiet moments.

"Christine, you know I support you. Well, in most things you do I support you. Now listen, maybe if I have a talk with the managers we can figure something out. I honestly do not care for your harassing others."

"_I doubt, Mme., that will have much effect. M. Firmin and M. Andre have heads thicker than organ pipes."_

"Christine, please." Said Mme. Giry, with frustration in her voice.

"_Oh, all right. They're not that stupid. But for the message to really get through, this is a good plan. Plus the place is due for a good threatening."_

"You mean the letters weren't enough?"

"_No, they were too subtle for the brilliant minds of the managers." _Hissed Christine sarcastically.

"Christine." Said Mme. Giry more forcefully this time. Arguing with Christine head to head was the only way, Mme. Giry found, that would get her to listen to reason. "Now, about Erik." Mme. Giry changed the subject.

"_What about Erik?"_ asked Christine suspiciously.

"Why do you have such an interest in this one?"

"_He has potential, I like to encourage those who have talent." _Mme. Giry began to cough violently. Christine, obviously missing the sarcasm said, "_a little early to be getting the cold Mme."_

"Christine, since when have you ever wanted to help anyone other then yourself?" There was a long silence before any sound was heard.

"_He's different_." Christine announced.

"In what way?" asked Mme. Giry, but her question was met with silence. "Christine?" she called out, but for nothing, Christine had left and gone somewhere else to haunt her domain.

**A/N: Okay, everyone. Sorry for not updating earlier, but I've been out of town the past week, and will be again for the next week, so I hope this will tide you all over until I update in the future. Keep R&R everyone, I love you all so much!**


	25. A Walk in Autumn

Chapter 25

Erik reached the grand hall, where the doors were thrown open to let in the sunlight and to reveal the ever-busy streets of Paris. Erik stared out at the little shops, cafés so full of life, which he had not seen in a good two months. Time had flown by while he had been in the Opera House, he had been so busy summer had flown by and they were well into Autumn. People brushed past him, talking loudly and trying to get either tea or some sort of pastry that the chefs had prepared. Erik wasn't in the mood to eat, so he dodged the many people who were crowding around and headed towards the front door. A nice walk would do wonders for him. Just as he reached the entrance a hand was laid on his shoulder and he whipped around to see who it was.

"A little jumpy aren't you?" asked a friendly voice, and Erik smiled broadly as Steve smiled at him.

"Just nervous I guess with all the Phantomess letters coming in." Erik shrugged. Steve nodded his agreement and glanced outside.

"Fancy going for a walk Erik?" asked Steve.

"I was just thinking the same thing and was about to leave. I would love your company though." Steve grinned and they stepped out the door together, both braving the chilly wind that would occasionally pass by them.

Paris was beautiful in Autumn, the many coloured leaves danced in the air without a care in the world. It was the perfect time when there were still some leaves on the trees, and some were on the ground, just begging you to walk through them. Erik breathed in deep and made his way among the leaves, which crunched under his and Steve's feet. Vendors shouted inaudible things at them, but Erik didn't really pay much attention, he was just so happy to be out of the Opera House.

"Lovely time of year, Autumn." Commented Steve, to which Erik nodded heartily.

"I used to spend most of my childhood outdoors playing in the sunshine, I would always look up at the Paris Opera and wish I could perform there forever." Erik laughed to himself and Steve gave him a sidelong glance, for Erik had never really spoke about himself much. "Now, I really want to be out of that building and be outside."

"Understandable. We've been cooped up in there non-stop because of the Opera. Now that it's over for now, and we have some free time, it's only natural to see some other things then the Managers' bad haircuts." Erik laughed at this comment and the two friends continued down the busy streets of Pairs.

"So, how's the orchestra going for you?" Steve made an odd noise, something between a gurgle and a hiccup and shook his head.

"Maestro along with Richard feel the constant need to remind us how terrible we sound. You know for such a tiny man, Maestro certainly must have very good life insurance to be telling that to some of the orchestra members. I mean some of the bassoon players are twice my size." Erik looked Steve up and down and laughed again.

"You know I'm glad you came along Steve."

"Well it's nice to be here with you Erik. To be honest, I've missed seeing you, now that you're a star."

"Oh Steve, please. I'm hardly a star." Steve gave him a playful nudge and chuckled.

"Modesty suits you Erik. However, by most standards you most certainly are a star."

"I see." Said Erik with a bemused look. "And what standards would those be?"

"Do you receive at least three vases of flowers each day?" Erik thought for a moment, counting in his head and then a shocked look spread onto his face and he gasped aloud, much to the amusement of Steve.

"Oh my God, I do." Erik announced. Steve ticked a finger off his hand.

"Have people ever parted for you in the corridors?"

"Yes." Erik grudgingly agreed. Another finger on Steve's hand was ticked off.

"Do you receive and throw away letters by the dozens?" Erik screwed up his face in mock disgust at just how right Steve was.

"Yes."

"Have the managers ever grovelled on their knees to you?"

"Aha!" shouted Erik, "that hasn't happened." Steve gave him a small wink.

"Just you wait."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" asked Erik, his eyes twinkling.

"It means they'll cave sooner or later, and notice you're worth 10 Pianjis." Said Steve with a tone of voice a teacher would used to explain a simple math problem to a student.

"That's 'Senior' Pianji to you Monsieur Mertin." Steve began to clap his hands imitating an audience.

"Bravo! We may just make you an actor yet. That was a very good Mme. Giry impression." Erik laughed at Steve, happy and care free for the first time in what felt like ages.

"I should think so, I'm around the woman so much lately." Steve nodded and grinned in reply. The friends had walked quite far by this point and had come to an intersection, where Erik had told Steve that he knew a very nice café where they could buy cheap, but very tasty treats. Once they had purchased their goods, Erik feeling much better, had bought himself a small portion of chocolate mousse, they ate, or drank in Steve's case while following the rest of the street. After walking in companionable silence for a few minutes, and after taking a few bites of his mousse, Erik continued the original conversation. "So, are there any other standards that make me a star Steve?" Steve flashed him that irresistible grin and cleared his throat importantly.

"Has someone ever sent you lingerie?" Erik gasped in shock and glared at Steve.

"What kind of a question is that?" Steve answered Erik's question with another question.

"Well, have you?" Erik turned away from his friend's face.

"No…" mumbled Erik quietly, as his face began to turn pink. Steve grinned, obviously not missing Erik's embarrassment.

"Erik, you're lying! Who sent it?" Steve coaxed playfully.

"No one, because I wasn't sent any." Said Erik defensively.

"You're blushing Erik."

"I'm not blushing! It's the cold. Everyone's cheeks turn pink in the cold." Steve stifled a chuckle just long enough to reply.

"All right, let's go back and get your newly acquired lingerie to cover your cold cheeks.

"Steve!" shouted Erik, blushing even more now as he glanced around to make sure no one was listening to the conversation. All Steve could do in reply was laugh heartily, along with many angry glares thrown his way by Erik.

"S…s…sorry…Erik…" gasped Steve between silent fits of laughter. Erik sighed in annoyance and walked forward ahead of Steve, desperate to think of something else.

"Honestly, what kind of a question is that to ask someone?" muttered Erik to himself.

"Erik!" more peals of laughter. "Wait up!"

"Steve, I'm the star. It's my way or the highway." Announced Erik in a mock angry tone of voice and sped up.

"Erik!" shouted Steve, his voice fading slightly as Erik continued to run faster and faster. "You're going to make me spill my precious French Coffee if you make me run any faster!" Erik gasped for breath and his legs pumped hard to out run Steve. He made it around the corner panting and ducked down into a doorway, making sure he was out of sight. Stuffing the rest of his mousse, quite unceremoniously in his mouth, he placed the container in his pocket and peeked around the corner for Steve who was huffing and puffing after him. Erik ducked back into his little nook and waited for the moment when he would jump out at Steve to scare him out of his mind. The footsteps were getting closer…_just a bit further…almost there_, thought Erik. He heard the creaking of wood and the wall behind him gave way and he fell flat on his back. Two wide, surprised eyes looked back into his own and Erik let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding.

Standing over him was Rachelle.

"Erik?" asked Rachelle in amazement to see him lying on the floor in front of him. "Erik!" she asked again, but almost screamed in his ear for she knelt down beside him and began to touch his face. Her soft cool hands felt nice on Erik's hot, sweaty flesh, and Erik looked into Rachelle's concerned eyes. "My God, you look terrible, come with me at once." She ordered and proceeded to drag Erik to his feet and led him inside the doorway into a small room, which was dimly lit with lamps, due to the fact there were no windows in the small space. Erik's eyes roamed the room as Rachelle sat him down on a comfy cushioned seat and rushed off into another room leaving him alone.

"Who was there?" asked a woman's voice that Erik did not recognise, and Erik strained his ears to hear what the conversation was.

"Erik. Get me a glass won't you?" snapped another voice, that one was Rachelle's

"Erik who?" pressed the same unknown voice. Erik glanced to the door that Rachelle had disappeared into and wondered whom she was talking to, and why on earth she was meeting that person here.

"Erik Destler." Rachelle announced and the clinking of glass and running water interrupted their conversation.

"You mean that poor boy that played with you at our Summer home?" the voice asked with amusement.

"No, the leading Tenor at the Paris Opera House." Said Rachelle sourly. Just at that moment Rachelle came from the next room with a glass of cool water and a towel hanging over her right arm, just like a waiter would. Erik heard laughter from the other room and a woman appeared right behind Rachelle with a curious and delighted expression written over her face. The woman was slightly taller then Rachelle, but had the same colour hair tied back into a braid, that fell down her back. She wore an elaborately furnished dress, a soft brown colour with tiny auburn gems sewn into certain places of the dress. They glinted in the soft light of flames, as did the enormous diamond that rested on the woman's left forth finger. Brown, intelligent eyes gazed at Erik as Rachelle moved somewhat protectively towards Erik with the towel and the water.

"You never told me they were one and the same, dear sister." The woman tilted her head and continued to stare at Erik as she playfully sucked one of her fingers, "you never told me how handsome he became either." Rachelle shot her sister a furious look and the other woman laughed delightedly and crossed the room to pull up another chair right beside Erik's. "I doubt if you will remember me." Her smiled widened as Rachelle handed Erik the glass of water.

"Drink." She ordered and Erik obeyed. It wasn't the first time that he had been under both their cares.

"How could I forget you, Pauline, Countess de Chagney?" Erik said quietly into her eyes.

**A/N: Er…I liked the beginning of the chapter, but I'm not so sure how the ending turned out. I hope you at least enjoyed some of it, and I thought I was high time that Rachelle got back into the story. Anyhow, I promise next chapter will be much more exciting. And thanks to all my readers and reviewers who have not yet cause a revolt due to the fact I've been away for so long. R&R.**


	26. There's Always Someone Watching

Chapter 26

"It's nice to see you all grown up now Erik." Pauline smiled gently. Erik sipped his water as Rachelle took the towel and dabbed at his face.

"Enough of this! What happened to you I've been worried sick. All of a sudden you disappear without warning and then we don't hear from you in a day. Do you know how many people have been looking from top to bottom of the Opera House for you?" Rachelle exploded. Erik cringed at her loud voice and gave her an innocent look, but she dropped the towel and grabbed his shoulders. "Do you know how worried I've been for you? Do you know what you have put me through?" she yelled in his face.

"Now sister, calm down. Is that anyway to treat someone?" said Pauline softly, prying Rachelle away from Erik. Rachelle took long, shuddering breaths and closed her eyes to regain control of herself.

"So you're singing at the Opera House. Lead Tenor? That's impressive. It's a shame that Senior Pianji is not singing anymore for the moment, I did quite like him." She chuckled softly. "Back in the day when I had spare time to see the Opera. Now, I shall have to come to see you: the little rising star of the Paris Opera House."

"Thank you very much Mme. but I'm nothing special. I'm only Senior Pianji's understudy since he is sick. I doubt if I will get any more singing time once he is well."

"Now tell me where you were!" demanded Rachelle after being quiet for a few moments and who was very uninterested in the present conversation. Erik's eyes met Rachelle's and he saw apprehension and fear written on her face and it was reflected in her eyes.

"Actually your disappearance has been in the papers. I would be very keen on hearing where you were." Added Pauline

"He was kidnapped." Snapped Rachelle quickly. "Now stop interrupting! Please Erik, continue." She pleaded, her emotions bordering on desperate.

"I wasn't kidnapped." Said Erik.

"Of course you were, I heard another woman's voice in your room. You were the only person who could have let her in and, I know for a fact that you wanted to be left alone that night. Erik, tell me who she was and we'll turn her into the authorities. You won't have to live in fear of her." Erik's eyes grew wide and fearful, Rachelle had heard the Phantomess. She knew Christine's voice; this was terrible. Rachelle would never accept where he had been that night, she would never understand the bond that he and Christine shared. He made up his mind: she could never know.

"Rachelle, I…I…" Erik stammered unsure how to begin. She leaned forward placing her hand on his knee comfortingly and looked deep into his eyes.

"Erik!" someone called from outside. Erik took in a deep breath of relief as Rachelle and Pauline glanced to the door, somewhat annoyed at the interruption. Pauline stood up and crossed the floor and opened the door a crack. Through the small shaft, Erik could see Steve wandering around, his French Coffee still clutched in his hand calling his name. "Erik! This is funny anymore where are you?" Pauline closed the door and turned her face to see Erik.

"Do you know this man?" she questioned him. Erik nodded.

"He's in the orchestra at the Opera House. We've become quite good friends." Pauline nodded swiftly and gave her sister an unreadable look. Rachelle, however seemed to know what this meant because she leaped up from her seat as if she had sat on a pin.

"No please Pauline, I haven't seen Erik in so long…please…he can't come in"

"Erik?" hollered Steve, making the situation worse. Pauline shook her head.

"Rachelle, dear sister, there will be lots more opportunities to talk to Erik, in…more private places. Erik's friend needs to know where he is, it's important." Rachelle sunk into her chair with a sulky expression on her face, knowing nothing could be done to change her sister's mind. Pauline opened the door and stepped outside, closing it softly behind her.

"Erik." She said quickly, as soon as Pauline left. "You need to tell me where you were that night."

"Rachelle, listen I'm fine now. I wasn't kidnapped, I went because of my own free will." This however, was the wrong this to say because tears began to form in Rachelle's eyes and she took her hand away from his knee and stood up. If there had been a window in the place, Rachelle would have moved towards it, but since there wasn't she just made her way over to a wall. Erik, alarmed by how she was reacting stood up with her and followed her over to the wall, where he encircled her with his arms. "Rachelle, it's not like that. It's really not what you think, I promise. I had some things to take care of."

"Things you couldn't tell anyone?" she mumbled quietly.

"Yes. Rachelle my past has not been a pleasant one. There are many things, which have happened that not even you know. Sometimes I just need to take a break and find my own happiness for once." He ran his hands comfortingly along her arms and she seemed to relax a little and half turned towards him. It wasn't a complete lie, at times the Phantomess did make him happy, like when they were singing together. Erik stroked Rachelle's hair tenderly and he saw that the tears had left her eyes.

"You mean to tell me there has never been any happiness in your life since just last night?" Rachelle asked as she laid her head against Erik's chest. Erik closed his eyes savouring this moment for it felt so nice to have a woman that meant so much to him, stand here with him alone. Together. Without any worries for the moment.

"No, there have been moments when I've been happy, even if they were few and far between." Rachelle placed her own arms around Erik's waist and nuzzled his chest ever so slightly. "When I was invited to perform at the Paris Opera House, that made me happy, for it was a dream come true."

"Mmm." Sighed Rachelle, "and?"

"When I met you that summer day for the first time. It was the first time I really had a friend or a childhood." Rachelle nodded into his chest in agreement.

"It was special for me as well Erik." She whispered. Erik smiled and looked down at her beautiful form. He was beginning to forget about the Phantomess altogether. She hadn't really seemed real to him, but now standing with Rachelle and holding her, she felt real.

"I'm also very happy right now." Erik whispered back and kissed the top of her head softly. Rachelle drew in her breath sharply and lifted her head from his chest and looked into his eyes. She blinked slowly as if she was confused and tilted her head to the side, so much like her sister.

"But, I thought you said…" she began, but Erik pressed a finger to her lips to make her quiet. She smiled gently as the flames flickered against her face and the two of them leaned in closely and touched lips for their first kiss. To Erik it was the sweetest thing he could have imagined, her soft lips were like rose petals and he ran his fingers through her brown, luxurious hair. The only thing that could have gone wrong during this wonderful moment of bliss actually happened.

"Erik Destler!" a voice gasped and Rachelle and Erik broke apart quickly to see who it was. Pauline and Steve stood halfway in through the doorway, shock apparent on Pauline's face. Steve, however tried to hide his laughter, by coughing violently, but Pauline gave him no attention. Both Erik and Rachelle blushed deeply and stepped away from each other quickly. Pauline had not lost the look of shock on her face and came to stand beside Rachelle. "Well…it's nice to know you've made up with each other…" she said breathlessly, unsure of what else to say. Silence fell over the four of them before Steve cleared his throat loudly, to break the awkwardness.

"Erik, I think we should be heading back." Just as Steve said this, the Pairs clock tower began to chime seven times. Pauline gasped and looked to her sister in urgency.

"My God is that the time. We've been here for ages, Marcel will be so worried about us, come along Rachelle we must leave." She turned to Steve, and then to Erik. "I trust you can find your way back to the Opera House." Erik just had enough time to nod urgently before Pauline, with Rachelle on one hand, grabbed his arm and dragged him out the door, with Steve following behind. The door was shut, just inches after the four of them made their way out of the room and Pauline let go of Erik's arm. She raised her arm in the air in order to signal her carriage and after it pulled to a halt, Pauline forced Rachelle in and followed quickly after. The door was shut and Pauline leaned out the window and looked right in Erik's face. "I wish you well at the Opera House Erik." She gave a small smile and leaned even closer so that Rachelle and Steve could not hear and she narrowed her eyes with menace. "And stay away from my sister." She retreated back into the carriage, gave a shrill whistle and the driver whipped the horses so they pulled away at a fast pace, their breathes clearly visible in the cool air of autumn. Mud was sprayed up from the force of the wheels churning and it sprayed Erik and Steve with thick, slimy filth. Erik blinked in surprise at this and stared at the back of the carriage with confusion, why had Pauline said that? They had seemed to be getting along fine, however when they were kids, she never really seemed to like him and Rachelle playing together.

"Hey Erik, are you all right?" said Steve, interrupting his thoughts. Erik shook his head and looked at Steve covered in mud and then glanced down at himself.

"Mme. Giry is going to kill me when she sees me like this." Erik said hopelessly trying to wipe the dirt off of him, but it only made the mud stick even more.

"Come along then, she won't have to know. One of my servants works a second job at a laundry place; I'll take you there. Mme. Giry will never know."

"These are the only clothes I own Steve." Said Erik as he was being led away by his friend.

"That's not true Erik. You have that wonderful lingerie you can wear instead." Replied Steve. Despite the horrid situation he was in, Erik couldn't help but laugh.

Christine stood cloaked in the shadows of a side alleyway. The mask might have hid her face, but it did not cover her eyes. The eyes were the most expressive part of the human body, and the emotion which she had seen Erik display when he and that woman kissed was none other then pure happiness. Christine felt sick inside, like she had just consumed an entire vat of acid and the acid was eating away at her internal organs. Christine had seen the love that Erik had for that woman, the kind of love that Christine herself wanted. Christine's eyes held a sorrow so deep and intense that few had ever experienced what Christine had gone through in her short life. With Erik, that sorrow had seemed to melt and disappear, with Erik, she seemed to forget who she was for a moment and considered herself a real woman. Christine sank onto the dirty alleyway floor and placed her head in her hands. She blended in with the surroundings, never even given a second thought, just like her entire life. She was never paid any attention, except for when Erik walked into her life. Erik loved her. It was simple as that, Christine convinced herself. _Erik loves me, not that woman. If Erik forgets that, then I will make him remember._ Christine stood up with purpose and looked down to where Erik had been standing not a moment ago and she smiled. It wasn't a sad smile, or a happy one, it was a smile of assurance, the most deadly upon her lips. For when the Phantomess had willpower, it meant something bad was bound to happen, and no one could stop her.

**A/N: Hoped you liked this chapter, I enjoyed writing it, it turned out a bit differently then I would have liked, in fact this story and the characters are taking over. I feel like I'm not really in control any longer, it's a scary feeling to have. Anyway R&R plus keep reading!**


	27. Haunting Accusations

Chapter 27

Erik was now safely back in the Opera House, however while he was, it seemed that his old room had been taken over by new management. Senior Ubaldo Pianji was reclined on one of the chairs, that groaned in protest as his rather large frame hung over the sides, making quite an unattractive sight to see. It didn't seem to bother the managers however, for they were right there by his side offering praise, food, gifts and anything else they could lay their hands on. Erik grimaced at the sight and went off to find his own luggage, which had been quite unceremoniously dumped just outside the door. He sighed and collected his things as the hallway began get darker as the light from outside dimmed and greeted the coming night.

"Erik, I can help you with those if you would like." Steve offered, but Erik shook his head.

"It's no trouble at all Steve, there's not much to carry, honestly." Erik said to Steve's skeptic look.

"Well you can at least stay in our room."

"I'd rather not…" Began Erik but Steve interrupted quickly.

"It's no problem, we have loads of room and Richard is gone remember? He was moved to the First Chair's Chamber." Erik nodded.

"Do you think Mme. Giry would agree?" Steve's face fell as the two began walking away from the disgusting scene that was now taking place in the Leading Tenor's room.

"No." said Steve with obvious distaste.

"We wouldn't want to upset her. It's fine Steve, I'll find a room." Erik smiled encouragingly at Steve but Steve wasn't paying attention at all, instead his eyes were focused on a running figure who was coming their way.

"Hey Steve! I've been looking for you everywhere, where were you?" heaved and panted a worn out looking Pete. Steve's face broke into a grin at his friend.

"I was out for a walk with Erik." Steve's face all of a sudden took on an energetic look. "And Erik was kissing our Patron!" Steve chuckled.

"Steve!" shouted Erik, making sure no one was around to hear.

"Wow." Said Pete, with his eyes shinning. He clapped Erik on the back heartily and laughed. "Good for you, you dog! Starting high, it's a good thing to do."

"Look, it's not like that…" protested Erik, but neither of them were listening at this point.

"Well Ernie has got a few girls and we were going to go out for a few drinks, would you like to join us?" Steve smiled like a wild man.

"I'd love to Pete. Erik?" They both turned to him.

"I can't, I'm sorry."

"Why not?" asked Pete in an accusatory tone.

"To be honest, I'm not in the mood right now." Sighed Erik, clearly wanting to just be alone to work out a few things.

"Too bad we won't know about his new girl." Said Pete almost with sadness.

"Now Pete, Erik doesn't kiss and tell." Said Steve and they both erupted into laughter. Erik was feeling very annoyed at this point and was thinking that he should just leave, having no reason to stay here and listen to them. He just turned to leave before he heard more of their conversation.

"Plus, we shouldn't tempt him to cheat now that he's courting the Patron!" Pete said and he and Steve turned their backs on Erik laughing. They went down the hall and Erik could hear more laughing as they met up with Ernie and the girls. Erik didn't really care at this point that Mme. Giry would be coming after them sooner or later. As he stormed down the hall in search of another room, he realised that everyone was allowed late as long as they wanted, the day after an opera finished and he became even angrier. Blinded by this rage Erik stumbled upon an empty room and shoved on the door to close it firmly. He was alone here, in the small room and dumped his things on the bed and went over to the small window, which was the only source of fading light. There was a tiny wicker chair that stood next to the window and Erik fell into it, completely exhausted by the day's events. His mind began to wander, he thought of Rachelle and the kiss they shared, he thought of his friends out having a good time without him, and then something in the back of his mind made him think of the Phantomess. As if right on cue, Erik could feel the hairs on his neck stand up and the room became much cooler.

"_Why are you upset?" _asked that familiar voice and Erik jumped up out of his chair quickly as if he sat on a knife. She had never started a conversation with him before, much less asked him how he was doing. It was odd, and he was unsure how to answer her question, for she never seemed to care what he was feeling.

"I'm not upset, I was just thinking." Erik replied in a shaky voice, looking around the dingy room for a sign of her, but of course saw none.

"_What were you thinking about?"_ she asked and Erik blinked in confusion.

"You can read minds, so you must have known what I was thinking about, is there any need for you to ask?" asked Erik, truly curious at the moment.

"_Is there any need for me to do anything?" _Erik shook his head in reply and the Phantomess' laugh rang somewhat harshly around the room, making him wince. Silence settled over the two of them and Erik shifted uncomfortably, knowing that her wise and probing eyes were on him at that very moment.

"What have you been doing. You've been very quiet over the past couple of weeks." Erik said trying to start a conversation, but lowered his eyes. "I haven't seen you in a long time."

"_I've been in your dreams Erik."_ She said, "_We've seen each other there." _

"It's not the same. You seem less real in my dreams as if you weren't really there, and it made me sad." Replied Erik in all honesty.

"_Have you missed me?"_ asked the Phantomess in a strange tone of voice.

"I have." Said Erik quietly.

"_Liar!" _she hissed and the room began to shake, and Erik was terrified for his life. He looked for an escape and only saw the door and so he bolted for it. He turned the knob frantically, but it was locked. Of course she would have locked it. With wide frightful eyes Erik searched the room and sank down onto the ground.

"No, I'm not lying!" he yelled over the noise, but it didn't do any good, for she did not stop. "I'm not lying!" he pleaded again, but this only seemed to enrage her further and the noise and shaking continued. Erik prayed that someone would hear this and come to his rescue, but in truth he knew that even if someone did hear the commotion, no one would come. No one could beat the Phantomess. "Christine you have to believe me!" he cried in one desperate effort and as quickly as it had all come, everything stopped and remained still. Many moments, that felt like hours to Erik, passed by slowly and Erik could only hear his own shallow breathing. "Christine?" Erik asked tentatively, not wanting her to leave, but hoping secretly that she had.

"_Who told you that name?"_ she asked quietly, and her voice sounded dangerous. Not wanting to incur her wrath again, Erik decided to be truly honest.

"Mme. Giry." Said Erik, holding his breath in anticipation and fear of what was going to come next.

"_Very well." _She said, admitting to herself that Erik was indeed telling the truth and Erik let out a small breath of relief. More moments of silence passed before Erik spoke up again.

"Christine it was true what I said about missing you all those weeks. Why don't you believe me?" silence followed this question and Erik was afraid that she wasn't going to come back, that somehow he had offended her, but his fears were put to rest.

"_I saw you and the Countess de Chagny together." _Christine said with pain in her voice, and if Erik could have seen her he would have tried to comfort her. An overwhelming sense of betrayal washed over Erik as this remark set in and he realised what Christine meant. She had seen them kiss, but why would she be sad at that fact? Erik put that to the back of his mind for the moment, Christine needed to be talked to.

"Christine..." began Erik, but Christine interrupted quickly.

"_Don't you dare call me that!" _Christine spat and Erik took a step backwards in fear. He certainly didn't want her angry again and accepted her request.

"…listen to me, that kiss didn't mean anything. We were just old friends seeing each other for the first time in a long time." Erik fell silent after that and walked over to his bed to sit down upon it.

"_Lies." _Spat Christine again and Erik jumped up.

"No, I'm telling the truth!" he yelled at nothing.

"_Your eyes do not lie Erik Destler!" _screamed Christine and a loud crack of lightning sounded and a flash of light filled Erik's room, making him temporarily blind. In his blindness Erik extended his arms in a futile attempt to find the wall.

"Don't leave!" shouted Erik, knowing full well that she was long gone. How could he argue with her? If she had seen them together, then there was no point in arguing the obvious, yes Rachelle and his kiss meant more then he was telling, and Christine had seen right through that.

"_I forbid you to see her ever again!" _Christine shouted, but if seemed as if she was standing right beside him and hollering in his ear. Erik yelped painfully and covered his ears tightly.

"Why?" he demanded to thin air, taunting fate and her anger.

"_She is a distraction to you and to my music. If I am prepared to give up my time with you, then you too will have to give up something as well. All distractions and extra things you do will be cut from you schedule. You will only go to rehearsals and have lessons with me. This is an order Erik Destler, do not test me any more tonight!"_ Christine's voice echoed threateningly around him and he felt like her voice was squeezing him to death. He struggled to breathe and fought to remain conscious. If this was how she treated her victim's Erik hoped that he would never become one, but at the rate things were going here, he wasn't so sure that the victim path was too far away. "_Remember what I have said Erik Destler, or it just might be the last mistake you ever make!" _she screamed at the top of her lungs and Erik fell to the floor, her voice cutting through his head painfully. He grasped at it, trying to make the pain subside, but it did little good and eventually he lost consciousness with Christine's maniacal laughter ringing in his ears and a pounding head ache to go with it.

**A/N: Hello all my lovely readers and reviewers. I feel like I must explain myslef for the long wait you've had to endure. I have been super busy at school, seeing as its my last year and I need to get my university stuff in order and the more exciting news, I've been offered a part in the Opera: The Mikado. **

**For those of you who don't know it, it's a Gilbert and Sullivan written comedy light Opera and I hope it will be fun. Due to rehearsals and everything going on, I will try and do the best I can to update as regularly as possible, for I know what it's like to wait in suspense and check your email everyday for an update, but you'll all have to bear with me. **

**Hoped you liked this chapter, I enjoyed writing it, but in my head it came out a bit differently then the way I wrote it. I'm telling you the characters are taking over. Now don't hate me…Review!**


	28. A Good Rehersal and A Bad Perfomance

Chapter 28

_2 months later._

"Erik Destler, what are you doing now?" asked a very tired looking Mme. Giry. The whole cast had been practising for Il Muto for the past 8 weeks and not a single person had their lines memorised, in a word this was turning into a disaster. Maestro was speaking with Richard in low tones about a certain bar in a measure he was playing incorrectly and Erik allowed himself a brief smile of pleasure before Mme. Giry's accusatory comment. The previous smile, however, was not the cause of Mme. Giry frustration, it was in fact because Erik had been covering his mouth to stifle a giggle along with Gregory at the ridiculous costume that Senior Pianji and La Carlotta were now sporting around the stage. Both of the 'stars' however were completely oblivious to the fact that they did look very ridiculous, which made the whole situation even more hilarious. "Erik!" Shouted Mme. Giry again, but she was angry this time and the smile dropped off Erik's face as she moved quickly towards him and Gregory.

"Mme?" inquired Erik with as straight a face as he could manage at the moment.

"This is not play time Erik." She leaned over and whispered in his ear. "If you believe so, I shall send you back to the orphanage, where you can play with kids your own age." Erik smiled up at Mme. Giry the combination of the Christine's support and the fact that he had been given the lead, if only the understudy, for both the Operas had made him unafraid of Mme. Giry.

"Will you?" he raised his eyebrow at her and there was a short silence between the two of them before Mme. Giry rolled her eyes and turned huffily to walk back to centre stage. Erik grinned to himself and watched with amusement at La Carlotta and Senior Pianji strutting around stage.

"Places everyone, we're starting from the top…again." Mme. Giry sighed.

"It's not _my_ fault if people keep stepping on my costume and making me trip!" said Pianji in a hurt tone. He waltzed off stage with Erik following as his servant and Carlotta began to screech at the pageboy and the other servants. Maestro stuck up the opening bars of the overture and rehearsal began.

The Phantomess watched from up above in her box at the murder that was taking place on stage. The victim's name was Opera and something had to be done. Something would be done. A plan began to form in her crafty mind and she disappeared into the shadows down to her lair to prepare for later.

_Opening Night: 5 weeks later…_

Opening night was always a welcomed and yet, stressful ordeal to go through for not only the actors, but the musicians and nowadays even for the managers. They were used to sipping champagne and trying to get into young girls' skirts: for them opening night was _the_ night. Since the increasing threatening notes from the Opera Ghostess, they had been reduced to mere blubbering forms, rarely coming forth from their tiny office and petrified of any and all spooky looking women. A change Erik mused, that was quite humorous as times. However humour was the last thing on young Erik Destler's mind since he was waiting anxiously in the wings for his part to come up. Not only was he nervous for his second big role, two of the most important people in his life were watching him perform: Rachelle and Christine. Rachelle had sent a beautiful bouquet of purple Orchids and rather a large box of chocolates, which under the inspection by the managers had mysteriously disappeared, and chocolate smudges on their faces did appear. Erik shook his head, he didn't really care for chocolates very much anyway anymore. Erik glanced sadly at box 5 to where Rachelle and her sister now sat talking gaily to each other. Rachelle wore a midnight blue dress tonight that sparkled with many little diamonds and had her hair curled up with a few loose strands cascading down her back. He took a glance at himself in the mirror and sighed in despair, unhappy to see how much Rachelle and he had changed since their former childhood days. Erik glanced back up at the vision that was Rachelle in her stunning and no doubt very expensive dress, and as the light hit the diamonds in her dress, they reminded him of stars in the night.

_Music of the Night…_

The other woman who was watching Erik tonight, well more of a ghost than a woman was Christine, the Phantomess of the Opera. Erik knew she was with him and watching over him always, although she never sent a note written in gold like Rachelle, but Christine did send her usual single red rose tied neatly with a black ribbon. Erik felt a strange sense of calm flow through him when he had been in his dressing room earlier that night holding it up to the light. Even though they had had their disagreemtns in the past, Erik knew she was just tough with him because he could do much better than he was at the moment. Erik felt like a silly little boy when she scolded him for not focusing on her music, but he felt deep down there was some sort of maternal love that she possessed for him, which got him through the long vocational studies with Christine in her lair. Since their big argument in the room after he and Rachelle had kissed, Erik had done everything in his power to impress or at least satisfy her in some small way. Since that awful night he had thrown everything he had into his voice and her music, and she seemed to get less and less frustrated with him. Occasionally she offer him small compliments, but her greatest reward to him would be if she left the lessons early and they just sang together. During those moments Erik would feel his soul leave his body and rise up to sing with the Angels, just as his human form was singing on earth with his very own Angel of Music. These times Erik felt as if each passing minute was a divine drop of eternity, and longed desperately for when Christine would say those magical words to him: "I believe we've done enough work for now Erik. Let us take a break for the rest of the night."

These thoughts seemed to comfort his twisted emotions as he struggled not to throw up from the combination of nerves and Carlotta screeching. A few bars played without her croaking, which meant his cue had arrived and he waltzed out behind the enormous Pianji.

_TAP TAP_

"Why who canna this be?" sang Carlotta in response to the 'knock' on her stage bedroom door.

"Gentle wife admit your loving husband!" Roared Pianji as he stepped into her bedroom and slapped one of the maids on the behind, laughing drunkenly. The maid scurried out of the way and Erik followed Pianji closer towards Carlotta taking her hand in his own. Pianji gazed out to the audience and his expression softened. "My love, I'm called to England an affairs of State." Pianji's eyes turned hungrily to a maid who was hunched over the bed folding clothes quietly. "And must leave you with your new maid." As he said this Pianji stepped away from Carlotta and placed his arm around the maid and turned again to the audience grinning mischievously. "Though I would happily take the maid with me." The maid gave a girlish giggle and moved away quickly and Carlotta approached Pianji, her shrill voice cut through the air painfully and Erik tried not to grimace as the two of them sang in harmony together as husband and wife. Minutes later an interruption was caused, but not the one Erik wanted.

"_Didn't I instruct that Box 5 was to be kept empty!"_ Bellowed the Phantomess as her furious tone rang around the Paris Opera House walls making all inside cower at the raw power of it. Erik shrunk back in terror, for he had never heard her that angry before in his life. Everyone stood stone still, afraid to ever breathe for everyone had heard that the Phantomess might have existed, but it was on this famous night that she revealed herself to the public. And the public was terrified.

Erik was the first to start, half out of shock and half out of curiosity.

"It's her. I know it, it's her." He half whispered urgently to no one in particular. Pianji who was at least a breath away from Erik at the time, and who seemed unaffected by the Phantomess, turned his massive form and sneered at the young and frightened Erik.

"Your part is _silent_ little Toad!" he hissed venomously and Erik took a step back as a new wave of fright seized him.

"_A Toad Monsieur?" _The Phantomess asked in a somewhat amused tone, compared to the previous one she had used. Colour flushed into Pianji's cheeks as he slowly rotated back to face the audience and gave a furious glare up to the chandelier and where the supposed voice was coming from, but to tell the truth the adeptness of the Phantomess' ventriloquism made her impossible to locate. Her voice lowered to a dangerous whisper _"Perhaps it is you who are the toad…"_ Her menacing form and presence retreated from the giant room of the Paris Opera Auditorium. A small collective sigh was heard throughout the audience and chatter began to break out in little groups around the place. Groups of people began to stand up and when the exaulted Senior Pianji realized that he was loosing his audience he took centre stage and began to speak.

"Oh excuse me for the interruption Ladies and Gentlemen." He took a low bow and noticed that the people who were about to leave had their eyes on him once again. Pianji allowed a brief smile and glared at Maestro as if to say, 'Play or you will never play again.' "Maestro, from the beginning please." He smiled falsely to Maestro and then to the audience as he returned to his starting position with Erik just behind him as usual.

_TAP TAP_

Carlotta still stood frozen on stage and so Pianji took things into his own hands, and not for the first time either.

"Gentle wife admit your loving husband." He stole a quick glance to the audience to see them settling back down and then launched again into his part as he took centre stage. "My love, I'm called to England an affairs of State, and must leave you with your new maid." The skittish ballet girl who was playing the maid, had completely forgotten her part and stood dumbly on the spot. Pianji, however ignored her and continued on gaining more courage, which seemed to pass on to Carlotta because she began to move quietly in her spot mumbling something to herself. Pianji faced the audience and delivered his next cheeky line, "Though I would happily take the maid with me." A nervous chuckle circulated the house and Pianji turned to face Carlotta and they began to harmonise together with Erik wincing in the background. La Carlotta and Senior Pianji joined hands in the middle of the stage and both were brimming with confidence when the unthinkable happened…

_CROAK!_

**A/N: Hello all my reviewers. Thank you, thank you, thank you, for sticking by through all this because well, it's been so very hectic, I can't really describe it to you. That and the fact that I was having a difficult time getting past the last scene. Hopefully this cursed writer's black will be at an end and I can write more chapters from now on. Thank you all again. Read on and stay tuned!**


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